Sometimes our understanding of a passage is enriched by other religious traditions. Such is the case with our next entry. Padre Frito is an Episcopal priest who has become a friend and a mentor. He shares his wisdom with us, attribute by attribute. One of the things he reminds us that every translation is indeed a commentary. He uses the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. This enhances some of his points. I answer his commentary with my own below in Italics.

by Padre Frito (aka Meshugenah Goy)

Exodus 34:6-7 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

⁶ The Lord passed before him, and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord,
a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, ⁷ keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation.”

1. Adonai, The Lord
   The Lord of “community”. G-d called the children of Israel, a community, to move from slavery to freedom.  No Torah, no rules, only a relationship with an unseen and unknown god who communicated with one man.  “I will be your G-d and you will be my people.”  To forgive there must be TRUST between both parties.  It had to be tough being community to trust in this one G-d they had never seen but had heard the stories of this one G-d – the G-d of creation and relationship with their ancestors.

Not only unknown and unseen, but for all intensive purposes the reason they were enslaved. What could this G-d possibly do compared with Pharaoh who was also seen as a g-d? Trust and understanding their place in history was an important part to gaining faith.

2. Adonai, The Lord
The Lord of “individual”.   Moses.  Born of Hebrew slaves, his mother hid her son in the bulrushes to save his life, discovered and taken into the house of Pharaoh, educated and knowing he was neither fully Egyptian nor Hebrew.  Seeing the injustice and desiring deep within something better for both people.  Yet, there would be no change of Pharaoh’s heart.  Moses took justice into his own hands when the Egyptian was beating the Hebrew slave, murdering the Egyptian.  God uses individuals many times to bring about change within communities and society.  Was there any forgiveness here?  I don’t see it in the story and we don’t know if the fugitive Moses ever asked G-d for forgiveness for this death.  Fleeing from Egypt, Moses doesn’t realize what G-d has in store for him.  Maybe Moses’ forgiveness came by way of going back to face Pharaoh and to lead the Hebrew children out of Egypt.

The question of why G-d hardened Pharaoh’s heart is an important one. Aren’t all people entitled to repent, make teshuva, seek forgiveness until the day of their death? But Pharaoh keeps making choices that essentially harden his own heart. That argument makes some sense to me until I realize that the Egyptians are punished as well. Then I am reminded that the Egyptians didn’t stop Pharaoh. Your question about did Moses seek forgiveness from G-d for murdering the taskmaster is one I have not considered. Intriguing.

3. El, God
It is nice to have your very own G-d.  If we are honest we have at one time or another wanted God to smite our enemies, curse our enemies, or at least give them a nasty paper cut for treating us – G-d’s children badly.  But G-d is creator of all and G-d of all.  G-d in His wisdom has chosen communities and people to represent him to the rest of the world – to be an example to others about this crazy G-d who wants to have a relationship with his creation.  Anne Lamont, one of my favorite spiritual authors reminds us that God cannot be tamed or domesticated when she writes, “You can safely assume you’ve created G-d in your own image when it turns out that G-d hates all the same people you do.”   A forgiving G-d is not an intellectual or copyrighted property by anyone or community. G-d created the best in all of creation and us so that we can call out the best in each other and our communities so that we can forgive each other when we fail to live up to loving G-d and our neighbors as ourselves.

We talk about the fact that each of the patriarchs (and matriarchs) had their own vision of the one G-d. That’s why in our prayer Avot, the rabbis said the G-d of our ancestors, the G-d of Abraham, the G-d of Isaac, the G-d of Jacob when it could have just said the G-d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Love the line a “forgiving G-d is not an intellectual or copyrighted property.”

4. Rachum Merciful
An Anglican priest penned the following words to a beloved hymn that sums up for me character of G-d as merciful.  Here is part of those words from the hymn There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy:

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in His justice,
Which is more than liberty.

There is no place where earth’s sorrows
Are more felt than up in Heaven;
There is no place where earth’s failings
Have such kindly judgment given.

There is grace enough for thousands
Of new worlds as great as this;
There is room for fresh creations
In that upper home of bliss.

For the love of God is broader
Than the measure of our mind;
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.

Souls of men! why will ye scatter
Like a crowd of frightened sheep?
Foolish hearts! why will ye wander

From a love so true and deep?
It is God: His love looks mighty,
But is mightier than it seems;
Tis our Father: and His fondness
Goes far out beyond our dreams.

But we make His love too narrow
By false limits of our own;
And we magnify His strictness
With a zeal He will not own

I like the idea of mercy being wide. There is a spaciousness. The idea that we should not make G-d’s love too narrow by limiting it ourselves fits with Rambam who said that we couldn’t discuss G-d because that would put a limit on G-d.  And the hymn is correct, we get trapped in thinking that if we are strict, G-d will love us more. Not true. The haftarah for Yom Kippur is clear. G-d does not want our sacrifices or our exacting fasts, G-d wants our acts of love and kindness. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, freeing the captive.

5. Chanun, Gracious
When I think of graciousness my mind usually heads toward Emily Post or Leticia Baldridge (okay, you can kinda figure out how old I am).  But graciousness from a religious understanding is more about hospitality.  Both G-d and culture of the Near East was about hospitality.  My understanding of hospitality is to offer safety, comfort, food, rest and anything else the guest should need.  G-d invited the Hebrew children and all of us today into “gracious” space that allows a place for forgiveness to take place.  Forgiveness can only happen in places where gracious hospitality exists.   It was true at Sinai and true today in shuls, churches, mosques, and other houses of worship.  Wherever true graciousness exists forgiveness can take place.

I argued with my thesis advisor at length about grace. He said that it is not a Jewish concept. Yet here it is. I like the connection you draw between hospitality and forgiveness. Our congregations need to be open wide, wide enough for everyone to enter. That is part of grace. Is grace distinct from graciousness? Some would argue that only G-d has grace. We, as humans, can have graciousness.

6. Erech apayim Slow to anger
Does G-d get angry?  It is one of those questions that my former spiritual director would say that it depends on what type of anger you are talking about.  There is “good” anger and there is “bad” anger.  Good anger is a hot white holy anger, it is about shame and honor and is displeased by bad behavior by individuals and community.  Holy anger still loves the one who has wronged them.  Holy anger never hates, seeks destruction or annihilation.  Do we get angry?  Of course, but is it good anger or bad anger.

And how quickly does it “blow over.” Is it OK to have righteous anger? Can we separate righteous anger from other angers? Whose righteousness? I am not sure about your use of the word shame. Shame is different from embarrassment or guilt. It is a difficult emotion to heal from, very deep.

7. Rav Chesed, Abundant in goodness
JHWH Jireh, God our provider.  Too often we take EVERYTHING FOR GRANTED. Creation, all that sustains our lives (oxygen, food, animals, each other).  G-d provided all of this to us for our nourishment, enjoyment, stewardship and care of.  We complain we don’t have what we need or enough because someone else has more.  But when we journey through scripture we see God providing for Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Joseph, Moses, the children of Israel, the prophets and so on.  All that is GOOD has been given to us but seldom do we thank G-d with gratitude.  Instead we do it out of ritual or habit.  Even when we are forgetful to say thanks God still is good to us.  The story that impacts me most about goodness is when Jesus heals the 10 lepers and only one comes back to say thanks.  I want to be that one that recognizes and shows thanks for God’s goodness.

The rabbis taught that we should say 100 blessings of gratitude a day. Some days that is easier than others. Recognizing that goodness comes from G-d is important. One of those blessings says, “Praised are You, Lord our G-d, who forms light and creates darkness, who makes peace and creates all things.” All things come from G-d, good and bad. It can be a hard message. The attribute says that G-d abounds in lovingkindness, in chesed. Abundant love. There are enough resources. There is enough G-d. There is enough love.

8. Emet, truth
G-d is not afraid of our honesty.  But we are afraid of G-d when we sin.  Adam and Eve hiding, Abraham lying about Sarah being his sister, Jacob deceiving Isaac about birthright and David lying to the prophet Nathan on the murder of Uriah.  The ancients were not as concerned about right and wrong in the legal sense as they were about honor and shame in relationship (i.e. Honor thy father and mother).  A relationship needs to be based on truth.  But G-d shows over and over again his forgiveness to each of our fore fathers and mothers, and to us when we “fess” up.  We have to be honest to receive true forgiveness.

Emet is one of my favorite Hebrew words. The first, the last and the middle letter of the Hebrew alefbet. Another name for G-d. G-d does demand our truthfulness. G-d knows when we are lying. Perhaps what G-d really demands is that we become honest with ourselves. Then maybe we can feel G-d’s forgiveness that is there for all of us—if we are honest.

9. Notzer chesed l’alaphim, Showing compassion to a thousand generations
When I think of compassion I am reminded of the terribly grumpy and vindictive prophet Jonah.  Rather than take a message of repentance and forgiveness to people who were not part of “God’s chosen”, he would rather G-d destroy the city and people of Ninevah.  But the people do repent and seek God’s repentance receiving G-d’s forgiveness.  Jonah was more put out by G-d asking him to do something out of his comfort zone with people he did not believe deserved to be forgiven.  Do I believe that everyone is redeemable?  Am I willing to accept the other when they do repent and forgive?  Why should I only receive forgiveness and not my neighbor?

Jonah actually repeats some of the 13 Attributes in his argument, reminding G-d of G-d’s own nature: “He prayed to the Lord, saying, “O, Lord, isn’t this just what I said when I was still in my own country? That is why I fled beforehand to Tarshish. For I know that You are a compassionate and gracious[1] God, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, renouncing punishment.” (Jonah 4:2) We live in the hope that G-d does show compassion and lovingkindness to the thousandth generation, and then a thousandth generations beyond that.

10. Noseh avon, Forgiving iniquity
David knew something about getting caught in sin and deception when Nathan confronted him about the murder of Uriah.  David knew the depth of his own depravity and he experienced the height of G-d’s forgiveness.  David became a man after G-d’s own heart I believe because he embraced G-d’s forgiving love.  We too can learn the lesson of G-d’s forgiving our sins.  Can we embrace G-d’s forgiveness as David did?  David would not have been able to write Psalm 103 if he had not embraced G-d’s forgiveness, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

It fascinated me that when President Clinton asked a rabbi how to repair his marriage, how to do teshuva, the rabbi referred him to Psalm 51, allegedly written by King David for the same transgressions. It says, in part:
Have mercy on me, O God,
According to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
   

Blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight;
so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge.

 Knowing that King David could pen prayers like this, and President Clinton could use them to seek forgiveness, is the spirit in which I approach the chaggim, holidays.

11. Noseh peshah, Transgression
In my tradition we pray, “And forgive us our trespasses and we forgive those who have trespassed against us.”  We are reminded that we sin by commission and omission in word, thought and deed every day.  BIG SINS and little sins against G-d, our neighbor and ourselves.  On the surface is looks pretty heavy, but if we are honest to G-d we step over others boundaries and our own.  The Torah was given to guide us to live in harmony with G-d and each other in community.  We can avoid transgression, breaking the known laws of G-d or the laws of loving G-d and neighbor, if we keep the Golden Rule of “doing unto others as we would have done unto us.”

Hillel said, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The rest is commentary; go and study it.” While we are also taught to repent the day before we die, therefore every day, I am not sure that we actually sin every day.

12. Noseh chatah, Sin
For me sin is all about relationship.  I was taught that the Greek word for sin was “missing the mark” or “missing the target” when you think of archery and hitting the bulls eye on a target.  But that got interpreted by me as striving for perfection.  My definition of sin is whatever harms my relationship with God and others, whatever draws us away from G-d or each other is sin.  Whatever draws us closer to G-d and others is holy and good.  Sin is about broken relationship.  Forgiveness is about restored relationship with G-d and others.

The Hebrew for sin, chait, is also an archery term meaning to miss the mark. I am not sure the goal is perfection. Rather it is striving to hit the target. Most archers miss most of the time. The idea is we need to keep practicing. Baseball teams are lucky if they win .500. Hitters are lucky if their average is over 300. But we don’t call that a sin! I think what G-d demands is for us to try. Or in Micah’s words, “To justly, love mercy and walk humbly with G-d.”

13. V’nekah, and pardoning
Pardoning is the end of the verdict.  Knowing I have sinned or done the crime I expect to have the book thrown at me.  Judgment and knowing that I should make restitution and be penalized in some way.  With G-d all I can do is ask forgiveness.  There will always be consequences for my actions.  Maybe that is G-d’s judgment for my actions.  But pardoning is hearing forgiveness and BEING forgiven.

Pardoning always reminds me of the Thanksgiving turkey the president “pardons”. After a guilty verdict, someone can be pardoned, excused. That is being forgiven. Hearing that forgiveness given is important. That enables someone to move on. It is hard.

Every week we read a responsive prayer for peace after the Torah and Haftarah reading. It includes a line from the prophet Amos. “Let justice roll down like water, and righteousness as a mighty stream.” Every week I hear this in Martin Luther King’s deep, well measured preacher’s voice. It was part of his last speech, when he said “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!” We have been a long journey as we get ever closer to Yom Kippur, ever closer to the Promised Land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Martin Luther King had a dream. In 2013 my dream would be similar to King’s. He had a dream that “this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed, “We hold these truths to be self –evident. That all men are created equal.” I would include women in that promise. We have a way to go for the dream to be fulfilled for blacks, Hispanics, immigrants and women. He had a dream that included the ability for sons of former slave and sons of former slave owners would be able to sit down together at a table.” Some of that dream has been accomplished. No matter what your politics it is thrilling that there is an African American in the White House. That his entertaining included a beer with a black Harvard professor and the arresting white police officer does show some progress. However, racial profiling is still rampant, in border states like Arizona and even in places like Hudson, New Hampshire. We live in a country where black men (and young boys) are afraid to walk down the street. He had a dream that his little girls would be judged not by the color of their skin but by their character. I do not think we have achieved that goal. He had a dream like Isaiah’s dream that every valley shall be exalted and every hill and mountain be made low. The rough places will be made plain and the crooked places be made straight. While I see this as poetic, King saw this as real. G-d is real. He added, “This is our hope.” He lived his life through faith, drawing on the theology of Moses and the prophets to bring Americans hope. With his faith he would be able to “hew out of a mountain of despair a stone of hope.” One of the names of G-d is “Tzur Yisrael,” the Rock of Israel. This Rock, hewn out of stone is what brought King hope. It is what gives me hope and courage. He knew the road would be difficult. It was. It continues to be. But through that faith, hope and courage, the nation could achieve his dream to “work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.” We are not yet there. Progress has been made since the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act were signed on the Religious Action Center desk. This is a nation that still discriminates. Where our justice system is not fair, where the scales of justice are not balanced. Where children, black children and white children, one out of four, still go to bed hungry. Where one out of four women are still sexually abused. Where not everyone has access to excellent medical care, to the best universities or to jobs when they are finished with school. I dream of a day when some of these issues are eradicated.

As a child I remember fondly going to peace rallies in Evanston and being part of the political process. I remember when my mother ran for park commissioner and almost got stabbed by someone from the John Birch Society. I remember when the KKK tried to come to Skokie. It was during those turbulent times that I got my start in social action. Not in a synagogue but out marching. Heschel said of marching with King that his feet were praying.  There is much work left to be done.

King understood G-d’s Thirteen Attributes. He understood the power of a dream and the reality of a vision. He understood the connection between the Biblical prophets and the quest for justice. Justice is one of G-d attributes. Working for justice is emulating G-d, doing G-d’s work here on earth. King joined a long line of dreamers—Jacob, Joseph, Moses, the prophets. As he himself pointed out so eloquently in that last speech. “Ours is not to finish the task. Neither are we free to ignore it.” What are your dreams, your visions for the new year or for this country? How can you help to make them real?

Our next guest blogger is Gareth Mann Sitz, a congregant at Congregation Kneseth Israel, a recently retired English, Spanish and theatre teacher and the creative director of FemmeProv, a local Elgin theatrical company. She grew up in a theatre household. She learned important things from her mother, a single parent, about the nature of G-d. She says:

“I believe that Judaism, at its best, instills in us an internal desire to lead a moral life and be a mensch, striving always to emulate the attributes of the divine.   When we model unconditional love, kindness, patience, and compassion, we pass on these traits to another generation.

My single mother worked hard to support me and my grandmother, and though she sent me to synagogue to get a religious education and frequently took me to Friday night services, she didn’t have a solid footing in Torah studies.  If anyone had asked her to name the attributes of the divine, she would have responded with a quizzical expression on her face. Yet she instinctively was a mensch, truly epitomizing God-like qualities.  She wasn’t trying to be a good person.  She just was.

Whatever mensch-like qualities I may have are a direct result of being raised by a woman of G-d.  As I’ve raised my three children, wishing so much their grandmother would have lived to enjoy them, my mother remains an internalized role model. When I find myself swathed in an overwhelming sense of unconditional love for others, I know that my God-fearing mother is the reason I care so much. When I listen intently to unending patter from a friend or family member, I recognize where my patience and kindness comes from.   I’m “slow to anger” because my mother rarely lost her temper with me, and I forgive others because I was always forgiven.

When children grow up with parents who don’t model God-like behavior, who abuse them in a multitude of ways, it is difficult for these children to face the world.  I believe that it’s possible to re-parent those who need that nurturing, and I believe that G-d’s love can work miracles.  The expression, “it takes a village to raise a child,” is meant for all of us—a reminder that we are instruments of the divine on this earth with the power to change lives.  We are all works-in-progress, and as we seek to let G-d’s attributes permeate our words and actions, we will always fall short, needing forgiveness for our transgressions and inability to always do what is right.  During Yom Kippur, we have the opportunity to rededicate ourselves to G-d’s ways, and as we atone for our sins, we strive once more to face the world –a world that needs each one of us to be a mensch.

When I let memories of my mother’s innate goodness fill my heart, I feel blessed indeed.  As I worship during the High Holy Days, I seek to reinforce my commitment to live my life like my mother the mensch.”

Gareth instinctively understands the connection between the 13 Attributes and good parenting. Her list reminds me of the “check-list” of the Woman of Valor. It would seem that both she and her mother were truly Women of Valor, those that fear (or I would prefer) revere the Lord, shall be praised. She also makes a strong case for the line in the Vahavta. “Teach them diligently.” Teach what? Teach the children diligently…or set their teeth on edge. As Gareth’s mother was an inspiration to her, so too has Gareth been an inspiration to several generations of children and grandchildren, students and and their children. Perhaps that is how G-d’s love and compassion extends to the thousand generation! How do you teach about G-d’s love and compassion to the next generation?By demonstrating it so that it is real. That’s what Gareth’s mother did, over and over again. How do you teach about G-d’s love and compassion in your own life?  How do you make children, your own or others feel loved and secure?

Memory and forgiveness. You can’t have one without the other. But we need patience too. Patience with others. Patience with ourselves. Patience with G-d. ”Patience. It’s a virtue,” is a common American phrase. I use it a lot, especially when stuck in traffic. Usually at a stoplight. Stoplights in Illinois seem to be longer than anywhere else I have lived! I have no patience, especially at stoplights. In Israel you hear people say, “Savlanut!” which is the modern Israeli equivalent. “Patience.” What the Hebrew in the Thirteen Attributes really says is that G-d is slow to anger, therefore patient. It doesn’t say that G-d never gets angry. G-d does get angry—with society in the time of Noah, with Sodom and Gemorah, with Pharaoh, with the Amalekites, with Moses, with Miriam and Aaron and with the people of Israel. However, it takes a long time for G-d to get to the boiling point, G-d is slow to anger. As a Bar Mitzvah student said recently, G-d doesn’t want to punish people. It has to be for a really big mistake.” Once G-d does punish people, the way it is spelled out in the Torah, it seems that G-d’s anger dissipates quickly. G-d does not seem to hold onto anger, does not hold grudges. In fact, G-d says that we should not hold onto grudges. As part of the famous verse in Leviticus, part of the “Holiness Code,” we learn, “You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of your people. But you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18).

Rambam teaches that when a sinner asks for forgiveness and is denied, “If they still won’t forgive he must ask him two or even three times. If they still won’t forgive him he should leave him alone and go away. This person who did not forgive is now the sinner.” These are important thoughts. G-d is patient and awaits the return of a sinner until the day of his or her death. Repenting and forgiving take patience. Sometimes we have to wait—at a stoplight, for a house to be ready to move into, for someone to come around and see things from our point of view. Sometimes, it takes patience for the healing necessary to move on with our lives. Patience with others, patience with ourselves and yes, even patience with G-d. How are you patient?

Yesterday I went to the Chicago Board of Rabbis meeting. It was a text study session. I really enjoyed looking at the Book of Daniel in depth and seeing its connections to Yom Kippur. That could be another blog at some point. But I was really challenged by a session led by Rabbi Josh Feigelson, the director of the i-center. He used a text by Vladimir Jankelvitch, Forgiveness, originally published in French as Le Pardon in 1967. Jankelvitch makes the point that “in order to forgive it is necessary to remember.” (p.55 of the English edition). What does that mean? So often we are told “forgive and forget”. But here we have just the opposite.

I think that there is a strong connection between forgiveness and memory. From a therapeutic standpoint we know that in order to forgive (and forgiveness is not always the goal) we first need to remember. It isn’t always easy to remember the pain, however, it ultimately helps. Jankelevitch continues that “Forgiveness undoes the last shackles that tie us down to the past, draw us backward and hold us down.”  I fought this sentence in the group at first. I didn’t want congregants to feel that if they don’t forgive they will always be stuck or think they are bad somehow because they are shackled. But look carefully at the language as others pointed out to me. First it is in the plural, “that tie us down.” This is a communal issue not a personal one. Second it says “the last shackles.” Forgiveness is a process that happens over time not all at once.

It reminds me of a story that Rabbi Harold Kushner tells in his book, How Good Do We Have To Be, “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.”

What I take away from these two writers is that we need to remember in order to forgive and we need to forgive but not forget, slowly over time, not because it is good for the one we are forgiving but because it can be better for ourselves. These are two important themes for the Days of Awe. Memory and Forgiveness. You can’t have one without the other.

Our next guest blogger has asked to be anonymous because of the sensitive nature of the topic. However, she has much to teach us about the nature of forgiveness, especially when a child commits suicide. She says:

“For most of my life, I was not a big believer in G-d.  Perhaps not the best thing to admit for someone who has chosen Jewish communal service as a pr0fession, but there it is.  I had as thoroughgoing a Jewish supplemental school education as any kid growing up in the suburbs in the 60’s, so I’m not sure how I developed such skepticism.  Perhaps it was observing Rose Kennedy at pretty close hand, wrapping herself in what I thought of as the mumbo-jumbo of the church in order to explain away the horror of what was happening in her family.

Saddled with these personal beliefs, or lack thereof, it nonetheless became my task to teach about G-d to other people’s children.  I came to terms with my assignment by asking them to think about what it means to be created in the image of G-d.  I suggested that perhaps it means to engage in what might be called G-d-like behavior.  We enumerated what that might look like, tried to practice it with mitzvah projects, and I was satisfied.

And then my son killed himself.  Every day since, the events of our lives together have run in my head in a never-ending loop, pausing only to give me an opportunity to regret something I said or did not, or did or did not.  Intellectually, I realize that it was mental illness that took him from me, but my personal experience tells me that we haven’t the power to forgive our transgressions, real or imagined.  It is, in fact, the G-d in my life, that G-d who forgives, and the occasional practice of what I hope is G-d-like behavior, that allows me to go on living.”

We learn from Job that sometimes it is better to say nothing in the face of unspeakable grief. Since our author was courageous enough to share deeply from within, I would ask that you hold comments on the blog. May our blogger continue to heal, continue to have courage, continue to find comfort in the G-d that forgives and in emulating G-d’s behavior.

This is the week in Illinois that many public school start the new academic year. Too early, too early I think. I don’t share the Staples commercial view that parents believe that “This is the most wonderful time of the year,” playing a Christmas carol in the background. I love school. I hope that students also love school and that they become life long learners. That teachers teach with passion and compassion, inspiring the next generation of leaders.

God extends God’s innate lovingkindness to the thousandth generation. We need to teach our children diligently—with passion and compassion, so that they come to understand their place in the world, their responsibility to make this world a better place, so that they know that they are loved for eternity by G-d. That way we leave our children and their children a lasting legacy to the thousandth generation.

Children Learn What They Live
By Dorothy Law Nolte

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.[1]

Rodgers and Hammerstein said it this way in South Pacific:

You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear
You’ve got to be taught from year to year
It’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear
You’ve got to be carefully taught

You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made
And people whose skin is a different shade
You’ve got to be carefully taught.

You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late
Before you are six or seven or eight
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You’ve got to be carefully taught

One of the bloggers I read, Hands Free Mama, http://www.handsfreemama.com expresses her hope for her children as we start the new year:

• Today I hope to take a few extra seconds to kiss the top of your head before you go.
• Today I hope to stand aside and let you do it yourself … even if it takes a little longer … even if it’s messier … even if it’s not perfect.
• Today I hope to say, “I’m sorry,” and “I love you” because they are life changing, comforting, and healing words.
• Today I hope to laugh more than I sigh with exasperated breaths.
• Today I hope to view missed shots and off-key notes as brave attempts at living rather than failures to succeed.
• Today I hope to focus less on your faults and more on your freckles and sense of humor because they light up your face.
• Today I hope to notice the color of your eyes when you speak to me.
• Today I hope to listen to your words without judgment and impatience.
• Today I hope to extend grace for accidental spills and other kid mishaps.
• Today I hope to help you as you clean up that spill and tell you about the time I dropped an entire bag of flour on the kitchen floor. Maybe we’ll even laugh about it.
• Today I hope to give you a little extra time to walk along the edge of the curb, do your own hair, and listen to your knock-knock joke.
• Today I hope to catch a glimpse of you that suddenly reminds me how much of an extraordinary miracle you are.
• Today I hope to remember you are more than your achievements, more that your academic performance, and more than your behavior.
• Today I hope you see my eyes light up, not because of something you do, but simply because of who you are.
• Today I hope you go to bed knowing life is better because of you.
• Today I hope you fall asleep feeling loved right now, today, just as you are.

What a gift these sentiments would be for our children. What a sense of love just because they are, not because of what they do. What legacy do we want to pass to our children’s and our children’s children?  What kind of role models are we? If you were to write an ethical will, not a list of how the property is to be divided but about how you want your children to live, some kind of moral compass you leave behind, what would it say? Write one.

We learned that according to our verse, G-d might punish the children and the children’s children to the third or fourth generation. However, we saw that part of the reason the rabbis abruptly truncate the verse cutting that part out is because in Deuteronomy 24, it seems to reverse itself.

Our next guest blogger, Dr. Reverend David R. Ferner is a retired Episcopal priest and a spiritual director. He lives with his wife Betty in New Hampshire in a house they built themselves and expanded for retirement. David and I played volleyball together, raised our children together, worked on social justice projects together including the founding of the Merrimack Valley Project. With his encouragement (OK nagging) I applied to rabbinical school. One of our most important conversations ever was around this verse.

“When Maimonides wrestled with the attributes of God he claimed that they ought to be written in the negative, making more certain what G_d was not, but not in any way diminishing the vastness and incomprehensibility of the Holy One.  So many of us would prefer neat packages of G_d, tied up with appropriately beautiful ribbons, easily defined and understood.  We would prefer a more juridical G_d whose activity is prescribed and predictable, whose favor could be curried with some right action.  But isn’t Maimonides’ way the better and wiser way?

This way of thinking allows us to look at Scripture from the perspective of the trajectory of G_d’s activity among G_d’s people.  It allows us to see that pardoning—forgiveness—is a significant characteristic of One whose loving provision and protection was so regularly dismissed and rejected in the course of biblical history.  It allows us to, at very least, understand that such pardoning consistently comes from the Holy One to so many, some of whom act in ways that might curry G_d’s favor, but all of whom in so many ways fall short of deserving such forgiveness.  Yet, we are all pardoned.  We are quite consistently forgiven, made new to always begin again.

For many of us this incomprehensible love of G_d for each of us, all of us having fallen short of the image and likeness of G_d in which we were created, is a reality we refuse to grasp.  Some of us look at another person and are quite sure that one can’t be pardoned.  Others of us look deep within and see the dishonesty and folly of our lives, so we construct barriers to the love and forgiveness that is always present for us to appropriate.  We belong to, we are part of—there are so many inadequate ways to express this—a G_d whose principal characteristic is love and whose most consistent desire is to be in relationship with all that Holy One has created.  Such is ours to grasp as the most significant reality of our lives if we allow ourselves.

We don’t need to do anything for G_d to pardon and embrace us.  However, many of us need to make amends in some fashion so that we may accept the love that is always present for us.  If we have hurt or offended another, we probably need to beg forgiveness.  If we have understood ourselves to be blind to the needs of others, we probably must find some way to address those needs.   If we are callous to the pain around us, we need to practice empathy and compassion.  We don’t need to do these things so G_d will love us.  No, instead we need to cultivate our being so that we can be receptive to the pardon and love that is always available.

Maimonides writings were banned and burned after his death in some measure because the truth of the radical love of God was incomprehensible to his hearers and readers.   We might continue to distance ourselves—barricade ourselves—from such incomprehensible pardon and love.  Or, in readiness for the Holy One who wants nothing more than to seek us out for relationship, we might cultivate our lives and do anything we must to accept and appropriate the love that makes us whole.”

At first when I received this entry I chuckled. I knew the Maimonides quote he was referring to. When I had questions about G-d I approached a rabbi who quoted the verse, said that to discuss G-d was to put a limit on G-d and that G-d is limitless. End of discussion. It was painful to a college student who was already on a spiritual quest.

This radical love of G-d of which David speaks is part of why I applied to rabbinical school. David, one cold February day asked, “Can you find the place within where you know you are loved.” I knew I could not. And so the journey began. There are many verses where we are assured of G-d’s lovingkindness. David makes it clear that this love is abundant for all of us, whether we think we are worthy or deserving or not. David said, “We don’t need to do anything for G_d to pardon and embrace us.” He continued, “We don’t need to do these things so G_d will love us.  No, instead we need to cultivate our being so that we can be receptive to the pardon and love that is always available.” May we ask for forgiveness and may we feel that pardon and love that is always available. Now and forever.

We are half way through our journey to Rosh Hashanah. What does it mean to stand before the Heavenly Court? Our next guest blogger, Paul Glaser, has extensive experience standing in court and defending those accused of crimes. Paul has worked as an appellate attorney for more than 36 years. He is also my “bimah partner” as ritual chairperson at Congregation Kneseth Israel. His job there is to make me stay sharp and focused. It is nice because I know he has my back. He teaches:

“It is common practice in the legal world for attorneys appearing before a court to refer to the judge (or judges in the case of reviewing courts) as “Your Honor,” or “This Honorable Court.”  In petitions filed with the Illinois Supreme Court asking to have a case accepted for review, the pleading begins with the following:  “May It Please This Honorable Court.”  Capitalization is expected.

While it is historic and expected practice, referring to courts as “Honorable” is, to be frank, sometimes not easy.  Not every judge is truly “honorable.”  Judges are human and prone to the same frailties as anyone else.  Some are inherently dishonest.  Some fool around on their spouses.  Some have substance addictions.  Some are prejudiced against certain kinds of people.  Some are unfair and bear grudges.  Some are not particularly bright.  Some are just collecting a paycheck until retirement kicks in.  But still, we attorneys continue to call judges “Honorable” because we don’t want to get ourselves on the judge’s bad side, because if we do, we’ll at worst be held in contempt and fined or jailed and, at best, never get anything from that judge in terms of relief for our clients.

I bring up the above because I see parallels between the professional “dance” lawyers engage in with judges and the Thirteen Attributes.  Do we Jews accept God’s Attributes because we truly believe them, or because we either fear something bad will happen and/or we hope that if we say it enough, we might get something good in exchange?  As Jews we are supposed to wrestle with God.  And sometimes we need to wrestle with ourselves.”

As Paul points out, the wrestling is important. The word Israel means G-dwrestler. Is it always easy to believe the Thirteen Attributes? No. We have already seen examples of when it appears that G-d is not kind or compassionate. We know that G-d gets angry. Some days it is easier than others to believe. Perhaps Paul is right. Some days it feels like going through the motions. Or that It is a wrestling match. And that is OK—even encouraged. It is a dance. But then the Psalm 30 teaches, echoing yesterday’s blog, G-d’s anger is for a moment; G-d’s favor is for a life-time. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning…You did turn my mourning into dancing.” May the wrestling become a dance.

Adonai and El are two words with similar meanings, often both translated as G-d. They appear next to each other in the Thirteen Attributes. Adonai, Adonai, El… The rabbis teach that Adonai is the G-d of mercy and compassion while Elohim is the G-d of judgment. Moses learned more of this when he stood awestruck at the burning bush and demanded to know G-d’s name. Gunther Plaut teaches, “The repetition of the attribute of mercy was taken to mean that God is merciful both before and after man has sinned and repented; it is man who changes, not God.” But it would appear that G-d does change to some extent. This week’s parsha says that  “Parents shall not be put to death for children, nor children who put to death for parents: a person shall be put to death only for his own crime. (Deut. 24:16)”

This seems to be in contrast with the end of the Thirteen Attributes, which state, “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet He does not leave the guilty unpunished; He punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation.” (Ex. 34: 7; see also 20:5; Numbers 14: 18; Deut. 5: 8). This last part is left out of the rabbi’s liturgy for Selichot. Why the change? It is not a very comforting verse to include when we stand before G-d in judgment. It seems unfair to our children and grandchildren that something we did wrong would be attributed to them and they would be held responsible for our sins. Are there some sins that are visited upon the third and fourth generation? Sins that repeat in families perhaps? Domestic abuse, alcoholism? We stand now in the third and fourth generation after the Holocaust and the founding of the State of Israel. Is reconciliation ever possible?

Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the retiring Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, helps us understand. There is a difference between divine judgment and human justice. Human justice can never be perfect. “We are not God. We can neither look into the hearts of wrongdoers nor assess the full consequences of their deeds. It is not given to us to execute perfect justice, matching the evil a person suffers to the evil he causes. We would not even know where to begin. How do you punish a dictator responsible for the deaths of millions of people? How do you weigh the full extent of a devastating injury caused by drunken driving, where not only the victim but his entire family are affected for the rest of their lives? How do we assess the degree of culpability of, say, those Germans who knew what was happening during the Holocaust but did or said nothing? Moral guilt is a far more difficult concept to apply than legal guilt.”

So the principle of justice is set out in this week’s Torah portion that the parents may not be killed for the sin of the children and visa versa. Everyone is responsible for their own actions. It is reiterated by two prophets, Ezekiel and Jeremiah who said, In those days people will no longer say, ”The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.’ Instead, everyone will die for his own sin; whoever eats sour grapes-his own teeth will be set on edge. (Jeremiah 31: 29-30).

The Talmud, in Makot 24a asks this very question. If Ezekiel and Jeremiah are correct, what about the Torah teaching that the children are punished to the third and fourth generation?

“Said R. Jose ben Hanina: Our master Moses pronounced four [adverse] sentences on Israel, but four prophets came and revoked them . . . Moses said, “He punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation.” Ezekiel came and declared: “The soul that sins is the one who will die.”

Think about that. As Sacks teaches, “Moses decreed and Ezekiel came and annulled the decree!…How is that possible when it was not actually Moses but G-d himself who decreed?…Two things are clear from God’s words to Moses. First, He is a God of compassion but also of justice – since without justice, there is anarchy, but without compassion, there is neither humanity nor hope. Second, in the tension between these two values, God’s compassion vastly exceeds His justice. The former is forever (“to thousands [of generations]“). The latter is confined to the lifetime of the sinner: the “third and fourth generation” (grandchildren and great-grandchildren) are the limits of posterity one can expect to see in a human lifetime.”

Change does seem to be possible. Change can be scary. It is rarely fun. It can seem to shake the bedrock. But sometimes change is necessary, even in long established Biblical law. This Torah portion gives us a blueprint for how to carry out justice. Some of it was radical, ahead of its time. Women can get divorced. If a husband died and he had a brother, the brother had to marry the widow, in order to take care of her. Some of it feels old-fashioned, dated, and unjust. If a woman was raped in a city, she too was stoned to death because it was assumed she hadn’t cried out. I am glad the rabbis found ways to change this law. I am glad that even within the Biblical text we see a radical shift of not punishing the children and grand-children for the sins of the parents. Change can be good.

Even G-d changes G-d’s mind. This week’s haftarah says that G-d even though G-d was angry and “For a brief moment I abandoned you, with a deep compassion I will bring you back. In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you…To Me this is like the days of Noah, when I swore that the waters of Noah would never again cover the earth.” (Isaiah 54)

G-d is a G-d of both justice and compassion. This is indeed a comforting thought as we move closer to the Days of Awe.