Inspired by Rabbi Irwin Kula’s [life changing] book “Yearnings – Embracing the Sacred Messiness of Life”

Forgiveness is something I need to be better at. And when I bought Yearnings it was probably the last thing on my mind.

With that said – by the time I got to chapter on Love, specifically the subsection on Forgiveness, I was in desperate need of the words it held. In fact the entire chapter made such an impact that I’ve been mulling over how to write this post without re-typing the whole thing for months now,… but I think I may have it figured out – I need to focus on asking for forgiveness.

Forgiveness is central to the workings of love. If we’re not seeking and receiving, being asked for and granting forgiveness on a regular basis, it’s most likely that our relationship is not as intimate, dynamic, or alive as we think it is. And it’s likely that we’re holding in plenty of bitterness, resentment, guilt, and shame.

I love my relationships, and I pride myself on having deep, meaningful, and truly loving friendships with so many people – but I’m not perfect. I mess up, I suck, I get angry, I hurt people without realizing it. I can snap, come across as rude, and be judgmental. I punish some friends for the actions of others, and then I realize it and write huge emails begging for forgiveness and apologizing,… Thankfully, people love me and forgive me for these things without me asking.

But I also need to be better at recognizing when others are asking for forgiveness.

Few things make us as vulnerable as admitting our mistakes – especially to someone we have every reason to think will be angry at us, or, even worse, unreceptive or shut down…

This is so true. But sometimes the requests for forgiveness aren’t what the forgiver had in mind. Maybe the forgivee is afraid to admit mistakes, afraid to be vulnerable because they know they messed up and admitting it, being reminded of it, just makes them even angrier at themselves,…

Now, the Rabbi goes on to say that Jewish wisdom has an expansive understanding of the process of forgiveness and a method born of centuries of practice.

“The sages taught that most of the time it’s not possible to have our offenses wiped away, to have that feeling of starting over, of being whole again with ourselves and the other person. But there’s a lot that CAN happen. We can realign our relationships, initiate some healing, and reconnected, sometimes more deeply than we ever have before.”
 
This is so very, very wise. I have a relationship that has been in trouble for about a decade now. I’ve been asked to forgive, and I have forgiven,… but I just can’t seem to forget the actions that caused the breakdown in the first place (I am cursed with an exceptional memory. No joke).  But I need to get past it, I need to understand that even though bad things happened, things that changed me forever, that there will never be a clean slate,… but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a future.


Jewish sages taught that there are three kinds of forgiveness. 

One of them is called selicha. It’s a forgiveness born of a heartfelt empathy for the transgressor, and an ability to see the widest possible context, even the positive outcome of the conflict..

Now that I am older, and it has been literally 10 years since the transgressions were first committed, I feel like I am starting to reach selicha. The kind of forgiveness I feel is one of acceptance. I know you’re aware of your mistakes, and because of those mistakes I turned into the person I am today. And while I am not perfect, I believe I am the best me that I can be – “In spite of” as well as “because of” your actions 10 years ago, those two things are not mutually exclusive. And today I can see the positive outcome of our conflict,… and day by day I am forgiving.

The second kind of forgiveness is the only kind we can ask for and ever expect to receive. It’s called mechila and is a kind of pardon. It’s not the forgiveness most of us yearn for, but the sages taught that it was enough.

This is the kind of forgiveness I tend to grant by saying “it’s cool” even though it really isn’t. I say “it’s cool” because I know that it isn’t a big enough deal to not brush off and get over quickly. Mechila is something else I could be better at recognizing.

Again, my nearly infallible memory tends to work against me here, as I subconsciously count the amount of times I grant “it’s cool” until eventually I run out and put my foot down, instead of warning someone with a simple “hey, you’re running out of coolness here and I’m running out of ‘it’s cools'” 

My point here is that I need to learn how to grant mecila without also 1) having the expectations that those things won’t happen again (because they will, no one is perfect) and 2) learn how to tell someone they’re running out of mecila with me, without causing a defensive panic (but I guess that depends on who you’re talking to,…)

The third mode of forgiveness is called kappara, and it’s the one we all yearn for. In religious language, this kind of forgiveness can only be granted by God. In Christian language, this is grace. It can’t be earned or asked for – it comes after all the asking and all the work. It can’t be predicted or expected; rather, it seems to be granted from the depths. When we say “To err is human, to forgive is divine,” this is the kind we meet.  THIS is the type of forgiveness that wipes the slate clean. It cancels out the offense. In psychological language it’s an inner experience of return, of feeling whole again. We are able to integrate our transgression into a more expanded self.

And finally, this is the type of forgiveness I wish I could grant but that no one truly can – because you have to find it yourself. 

This kind that we all have in mind when we do something wrong to someone else,… and sometimes, even though we’re granted forgiveness by that person and we still can’t find peace – it’s because what we are really craving is kappara. And this is a level of forgiveness that no one person can grant.

It’s almost as if this level resides within us. Like I said, I’m not very religious. But to me, kappara is what comes when we finally feel we’ve paid enough for our transgressions. When you’ve spent years trying to make it up to someone,… and suddenly you realize you quit trying ages ago and have truly transformed into a good, genuine, giving person, the one who would NEVER make that same mistake again… that’s’ when you’ve truly reached kappara.

I know in my heart that I have a lot of forgiving to do. When I read this chapter, I immediately thought of my mom,… all the times she has asked me for forgiveness and I just couldn’t seem to grant it (damn my memory). We were too far past mecila, and I am slowly reaching selicha, and if I can find it in my heart to give her the chance, maybe she can reach kappara.

And in the meantime, remember: The mistakes we make and the wrongs that are done to us needn’t imprison us in some dark place. Rather we should always remember that wholeness and brokenness can be held together in a sacred place. We are meant to remember our brokenness, and this alone is healing.  As the Hasidic Master Menachem Mendel of Kotzk taught, “Nothing is as whole as a broken heart.”