Jewish Forgiveness Quotes

I am frequently asked if I have visited Israel, whereas yet, it is simply assumed that I have. Well, I don’t travel. I really don’t, and if I did, I probably wouldn’t visit Israel. I remember how it was in 1948 when Israel was being established and all my Jewish friends were ecstatic, I was not. I said: what are we doing? We are establishing ourselves in a ghetto, in a small corner of a vast Muslim sea. The Muslims will never forget nor forgive, and Israel, as long as it exists, will be embattled. I was laughed at, but I was right. I can’t help but feel that the Jews didn’t really have the right to appropriate a territory only because 2000 years ago, people they consider their ancestors, were living there. History moves on and you can’t really turn it back. (#92 ff.)

If there is a God, he will have to beg my forgiveness.

I have discovered that people don’t learn lessons when they don't suffer the consequences... In Jewish law, it is called Teshuvah, which—appropriately—means both ‘repentance’ and ‘return.’ It is the penance we do in order to be able to return.

Whatever else we may say about it, the atonement fulfills the Jewish principle that only one who has been hurt can forgive. At Calvary, God chose to be hurt.

2017 is the Year of Jubilee! Receive its blessings in your spirit! Forgive and be forgiven. Reconcile and be reconcilable. Revival is due!

He is the God who loved you so much that His Son stripped Himself of all heavenly glory to live as an impoverished Jewish carpenter so He could shed His blood, suffer, and die for the forgiveness of our sins.

forgiveness always heals; it does not matter whether you are Hindu, Buddhist, Catholic or Jewish. Forgiveness is one of the patterns that is always true, it is part of The Story. There is no specifically Catholic way to feed the hungry or to steward the earth.

IN SHAME AND SORROW CHRISTIANS KEEP IN MEMORY THE JEWISH CITIZENS OF THIS CITY. IN 1933, 4675 JEWS LIVED IN DRESDEN. IN 1945 IT WAS 70. WE WERE SILENT AS THEIR HOUSES OF WORSHIP BLAZED . . . WE DID NOT RECOGNIZE THEM AS OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS. WE ASK FOR FORGIVENESS.

If there is a God, he will have to beg my forgiveness.

Link, there hasn’t been time for me to give you much of a formal Jewish education. But you might remember from Sunday school some of the stories of the Old Testament. God forgives us—and by doing that, God shows us how to forgive each other. Even more important, those of us who’ve been forgiven spend the rest of our lives trying to be worthy of that forgiveness.

It’s not hard, then, to see how the simple message of a Jewish carpenter in Nazareth became so popular. Jesus didn’t talk much about justice. He talked about mercy. He talked about forgiveness. As his followers see it, Jesus is the Chief Justice of the Court of Appeals, Universal Circuit. And he’s a pretty lenient jurist.

Christian reformism arose originally from the ability of its advocates to contrast the Old Testament with the New. The cobbled-together ancient Jewish books had an ill-tempered and implacable and bloody and provincial god, who was probably more frightening when he was in a good mood (the classic attribute of the dictator). Whereas the cobbled-together books of the last two thousand years contained handholds for the hopeful, and references to meekness, forgiveness, lambs and sheep, and so forth. This distinction is more apparent than real, since it is only in the reported observations of Jesus that we find any mention of hell and eternal punishment. The god of Moses would brusquely call for other tribes, including his favorite one, to suffer massacre and plague and even extirpation, but when the grave closed over his victims he was essentially finished with them unless he remembered to curse their succeeding progeny. Not until the advent of the Prince of Peace do we hear of the ghastly idea of further punishing and torturing the dead. First presaged by the rantings of John the Baptist, the son of god is revealed as one who, if his milder words are not accepted straightaway, will condemn the inattentive to everlasting fire. This has provided texts for clerical sadists ever since, and features very lip-smackingly in the tirades of Islam.

As for “Forgive us our trespasses,” the original was most likely “Forgive us our debts” (as the Sermon on the Mount puts it in Matt. 6:12). The line does not promote some vague notion that God should forgive us for the occasional taking of the divine name in vain or for yelling at the cat. It goes directly to the pocketbook; it says, “Don’t hold a debt. If someone needs, you give.” The call is for economic justice. As Habakkuk laments, “Alas for you who heap up what is not your own! How long will you load yourselves with goods taken in pledge?” (2:6).

He abolished foreign cults at Rome, particularly the Egyptian and Jewish, forcing all citizens who had embraced these superstitious faiths to burn their religious vestments and other accessories. Jews of military age were removed to unhealthy regions, on the pretext of drafting them into the army; those too old or too young to serve—including non-Jews who had adopted similar beliefs—were expelled from the City and threatened with slavery if they defied the order. Tiberius also banished all astrologers except such as asked for his forgiveness and undertook to make no more predictions.

For decades afterwards, I punished myself with images of Sofia standing naked in the snow, shivering, clutching a chunk of cement that a guard had told her was soap, in the worst winter Poland has ever known. But as I stared at the empty train tracks and thought of the stationmaster making the schoolyard slash across his throat, I had no idea what he was talking about. I could not have conjured up the kind of man who would be willing to design an oven that would be economically fueled by the fat of the men, women and children it was burning. I would not have believed that these same engineers would find other men willing to carry out their monstrous plans. I, too, would have dismissed it as propaganda, that one kind of human being could industriously collect and kill six million of another kind of human being. Somewhere along the line, there would have to be someone who said no. Forgive me, Sofia. Forgive me, Isaiah. I did not know.

Fortunately, psychologists have discovered that when our sense of belonging extends to the whole human community rather than stopping at the boundaries of our own social groups, conflict is dramatically lessened. As long as we recognize that we are interconnected rather than distinct entities, understanding and forgiveness can be extended to oneself and others with fewer barriers in between. One study illustrates this point quite well. Jewish college students were asked about their willingness to forgive modern-day Germans for what happened in the Holocaust. The study had two conditions—either the Holocaust was described as an event in which Germans behaved aggressively toward Jews, or as an event in which humans behaved aggressively toward other humans. The Jewish participants were more willing to forgive modern-day Germans when the event was described as occurring between humans rather than distinct social groups, and they also saw Germans as more similar to themselves in this condition. By simply shifting our frame of reference from distinctiveness to similarity with others, we can dramatically alter our perceptions and emotional reactions.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY FATHER My Lord, the Creator, has many names, but He is one and the same. God is Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh, and Hindu. God is love. God is truth, and the true light of love sees no walls. Do not abandon him even when your days are gray; for He is only returning your call when you asked for strength. The Creator will talk to you only in daylight, through the rays of the sun, and He does not use words. Instead, he will reflect his dancing mirrors inside your head, and they will communicate to your heart and change your biochemistry to see with His eyes and think like Him. There is no such thing as prophets and seers; for all of mankind was created equal. However, if you are open to love all without fear, and to forgive all without hate, He will radiate His love through your heart and eyes in a way that your magnetic field becomes a reflection of His sunshine. Yes, God is near and God is here. His tests are many, but so are his blessings. Yes, faith is the flame to eliminate all fear. For if you are truly good, serve Him, and stand only by your conscience -- He will grant you whatever you ask of Him when you enter His heavenly garden.

You seem surprised to find us here,’ the man said. ‘I am,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t expecting to find anyone.’ ‘We are everywhere,’ the man said. ‘We are all over the country.’ ‘Forgive me,’ I said, ‘but I don’t understand. Who do you mean by we?’ ‘Jewish refugees.’ [...] ‘Is this your land?’ I asked him. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘You mean you are hoping to buy it?’ He looked at me in silence for a while. Then he said, ‘The land is at present owned by a Palestinian farmer but he has given us permission to live here. He has also allowed us some fields so that we can grow our own food.’ ‘So where do you go from here?’ I asked him. ‘You and all your orphans?’ ‘We don’t go anywhere,’ he said, smiling through his black beard. ‘We stay here.’ ‘Then you will all become Palestinians,’ I said. ‘Or perhaps you are that already.’ He smiled again, presumably at the naïvety of my questions. ‘No,’ the man said, ‘I do not think we will become Palestinians.’ ‘Then what will you do?’ ‘You are a young man who is flying aeroplanes,’ he said, ‘and I do not expect you to understand our problems.’ ‘What problems?’ I asked him. The young woman put two mugs of coffee on the table as well as a tin of condensed milk that had two holes punctured in the top. The man dripped some milk from the tin into my mug and stirred it for me with the only spoon. He did the same for his own coffee and then took a sip. ‘You have a country to live in and it is called England,’ he said. ‘Therefore you have no problems.’ ‘No problems!’ I cried. ‘England is fighting for her life all by herself against virtually the whole of Europe! We’re even fighting the Vichy French and that’s why we’re in Palestine right now! Oh, we’ve got problems all right!’ I was getting rather worked up. I resented the fact that this man sitting in his fig grove said that I had no problems when I was getting shot at every day. ‘I’ve got problems myself’, I said, ‘in just trying to stay alive.’ ‘That is a very small problem,’ the man said. ‘Ours is much bigger.’ I was flabbergasted by what he was saying. He didn’t seem to care one bit about the war we were fighting. He appeared to be totally absorbed in something he called ‘his problem’ and I couldn’t for the life of me make it out. ‘Don’t you care whether we beat Hitler or not?’ I asked him. ‘Of course I care. It is essential that Hitler be defeated. But that is only a matter of months and years. Historically, it will be a very short battle. Also it happens to be England’s battle. It is not mine. My battle is one that has been going on since the time of Christ.’ ‘I am not with you at all,’ I said. I was beginning to wonder whether he was some sort of a nut. He seemed to have a war of his own going on which was quite different to ours. I still have a very clear picture of the inside of that hut and of the bearded man with the bright fiery eyes who kept talking to me in riddles. ‘We need a homeland,’ the man was saying. ‘We need a country of our own. Even the Zulus have Zululand. But we have nothing.’ ‘You mean the Jews have no country?’ ‘That’s exactly what I mean,’ he said. ‘It’s time we had one.’ ‘But how in the world are you going to get yourselves a country?’ I asked him. ‘They are all occupied. Norway belongs to the Norwegians and Nicaragua belongs to the Nicaraguans. It’s the same all over.’ ‘We shall see,’ the man said, sipping his coffee. The dark-haired woman was washing up some plates in a basin of water on another small table and she had her back to us. ‘You could have Germany,’ I said brightly. ‘When we have beaten Hitler then perhaps England would give you Germany.’ ‘We don’t want Germany,’ the man said. ‘Then which country did you have in mind?’ I asked him, displaying more ignorance than ever. ‘If you want something badly enough,’ he said, ‘and if you need something badly enough, you can always get it.’ [...]‘You have a lot to learn,’ he said. ‘But you are a good boy. You are fighting for freedom. So am I.

Everything’s awful,” said Jessie, picking at a corner of her bedroom wallpaper that was peeling. She explained to her grandmother about the trial yesterday and the basketball game and Scott kicking the ball into the swamp. She told her how Evan had to hunt for the ball for half an hour before finally finding it, and how he told all his friends to just go home, he’d find it himself, just go home. So they did. And how Evan and Jessie were left to look for the ball, and how Evan didn’t talk the whole time they did. “And today he’s not even eating, or anything,” said Jessie. “Did you know that it’s Yom Kippur?” “Yom Kippur, is that the one where the kids dress up?” asked Jessie’s grandmother. “No, that’s Purim.” Grandma was always mixing up things like that, things that sounded kind of the same, but were different. During their last phone call, she was talking with Jessie about the sequoia trees in California, but she kept using the word sequester instead. “Yom Kippur is the day when the Jewish people ask for forgiveness and they don’t eat.” “Is Evan Jewish now?” asked Grandma. “No, but he’s not eating. He says he’s not hungry,” said Jessie. “Sometimes that happens to me,” Grandma said. “I practically forget to eat.” “But Evan’s always hungry,” said Jessie. “Mom says he’s a bottomless pit.” “He’ll eat when he’s ready,” said Grandma. “Let it go.” Jessie hated it when her grandmother said that. She was always telling Jessie to let it go and be the tree. Crazy yoga grandma. How could anyone be a tree? “But

...he [Perry Hildebrandt] broached the subject of goodness and its relation to intelligence. He'd come to the reception for selfless reasons, but he now saw that he might get not only a free buzz but free advise from, as it were, two professionals. 'I suppose what I'm asking,' he said, 'is whether goodness can ever truly be its own reward, or whether, consciously or not, it always serves some personal instrumentality.' Reverend Walsh [Trinity Lutheran] and the rabbi [Meyer] exchanged glances in which Perry detected pleasant surprise. It gratified him to upset their expectations of a fifteen-year-old. 'Adam may have a different answer,' the rabbi said, but in the Jewish faith there is really only one measure of righteousness: Do you celebrate God and obey His commandments?' 'That would suggest,' Perry said, 'that goodness and God are essentially synonymous.' 'That's the idea,' the rabbi said. 'In biblical times, when God manifested Himself more directly. He could seem like quite the hard-ass--striking people blind for trivial offenses, telling Abraham to kill his son. But the essence of the Jewish faith is that God does what He does, and we obey Him.' 'So, in other words, it doesn't matter what a righteous person's private thoughts are, so long as he obeys the letter of God's commandments?' 'And worships Him, yes. Of course, at the level of folk wisdom, a man can be righteous without being a -mensch.- I'm sure you see this, too, Adam--the pious man who makes everyone around him miserable. That might be what Perry is asking about.' 'My question,' Perry said, 'is whether we can ever escape our selfishness. Even if you bring in God, and make him the measure of goodness, the person who worships and obeys Him still wants something for himself. He enjoys the feeling of being righteous, or he wants eternal life, or what have you. If you're smart enough to think about it, there's always some selfish angle.' The rabbi smiled. 'There may be no way around it, when you put it like that. But we "bring in God," as you say--for the believer, of course, it's God who brought -us- in--to establish a moral order in which your question becomes irrelevant. When obedience is the defining principle, we don't need to police every little private thought we might have.' 'I think there's more to Perry's question, though,' Reverend Walsh said. 'I think he is pointing to sinfulness, which is our fundamental condition. In Christian faith, only one man has ever exemplified perfect goodness, and he was the Son of God. The rest of us can only hope for glimmers of what it's like to be truly good. When we perform an act of charity, or forgive an enemy, we feel the goodness of Christ in our hearts. We all have an innate capability to recognize true goodness, but we're also full of sin, and those two parts of us are constantly at war.' 'Exactly,' Perry said. 'How do I know if I'm really being good or if I'm just pursuing a sinful advantage?' 'The answer, I would say, is by listening to your heart. Only your heart can tell you what your true motive is--whether it partakes of Christ. I think my position is similar to Rabbi Meyer's. The reason we need faith--in our case, faith in the Lord Jesus Christ--is that it gives us a rock-solid basis for evaluating our actions. Only through faith in the perfection of our Savior, only by comparing our actions to his example, only by experiencing his living presence in our hearts, can we hope to be forgiven for the more selfish thoughts we might have. Only faith in Christ redeems us. Without him, we're lost in a sea of second-guessing our motives.

In the whole psychology of the “Gospels” the concepts of guilt and punishment are lacking, and so is that of reward. “Sin,” which means anything that puts a distance between God and man, is abolished—this is precisely the “ glad tidings.” Eternal bliss is not merely promised, nor is it bound up with conditions: it is conceived as the only reality—what remains consists merely of signs useful in speaking of it. The results of such a point of view project themselves into a new way of life, the special evangelical way of life. It is not a “belief” that marks off the Christian; he is distinguished by a different mode of action; he acts differently. He offers no resistance, either by word or in his heart, to those who stand against him. He draws no distinction between strangers and countrymen, Jews and Gentiles (“neighbour,” of course, means fellow-believer, Jew). He is angry with no one, and he despises no one. He neither appeals to the courts of justice nor heeds their mandates (“Swear not at all”). He never under any circumstances divorces his wife, even when he has proofs of her infidelity.—And under all of this is one principle; all of it arises from one instinct.— The life of the Saviour was simply a carrying out of this way of life—and so was his death.... He no longer needed any formula or ritual in his relations with God—not even prayer. He had rejected the whole of the Jewish doctrine of repentance and atonement; he knew that it was only by a way of life that one could feel one’s self “divine,” “blessed,” “evangelical,” a “child of God.” Not by “repentance,” not by “prayer and forgiveness” is the way to God: only the Gospel way leads to God—it is itself “God!”—What the Gospels abolished was the Judaism in the concepts of “sin,” “forgiveness of sin,” “faith,” “salvation through faith”—the whole ecclesiastical dogma of the Jews was denied by the “glad tidings.” The deep instinct which prompts the Christian how to live so that he will feel that he is “in heaven” and is “immortal,” despite many reasons for feeling that he is not “in heaven”: this is the only psychological reality in “salvation.”—A new way of life, not a new faith....

In describing Intertestamental Judaism from a Christian perspective, I want to make it clear that in no way do I see the differences between Judaism and Christianity providing even the slightest support for anti-Semitism, the darkest blot on the face of the church. Anti-Semitism is a fact of Christian history, but one of which I am ashamed. I believe all vestiges of it must be purged from our midst. Even anti-Semitic feelings are, in the Christian sense, a sin—a sin from which we must repent with that true repentance which produces radical change in our minds, emotions, and actions. We must seek forgiveness from both God and the Jewish people.

Peter’s Vision in Joppa In Caesarea lived a Roman soldier named Cornelius. So Cornelius wasn’t a Jew. He was a Gentile. Yet he was true to God and gave to the poor. He always prayed. One afternoon this man had a vision. An angel came and said, “Cornelius?” “What is it, Lord?” Cornelius stared at the angel in terror. “Send men to Joppa and find Peter at Simon’s house.” Quickly, Cornelius sent for Peter. About noon the next day Peter went to Simon’s roof to pray. While he waited, Peter fell into a trance. He saw a large sheet coming from heaven. In it were all kinds of animals. A voice spoke, “Peter get up and eat these animals.” But the animals in the sheet were banned by Jewish law. So, to Peter, the meat wasn’t clean. “No, Lord,” said Peter. “I’ve never eaten any unclean meat.” “God has made this meat clean. Don’t call it unclean again.” Peter was puzzled about this. Just then the men came from Cornelius. The next day, Peter went with them to Cornelius’s house in Caesarea. The Spirit and the Gentiles Cornelius’ relatives and close friends were all gathered. Finally, Peter arrived. Cornelius fell at Peter’s feet to worship him. “Get up,” Peter said, “I’m only a mortal man.” In the house, Peter said, “You know that I’m a Jew. It’s against our law to visit a Gentile. But God told me not to call anyone unclean.” This was the meaning of Peter’s vision two days before. “So I had no problem coming here. What do you want?” Cornelius replied, “Four days ago a man in dazzling clothes came to me. ‘Cornelius,’ he said, ‘God has heard your prayers. Send to Joppa and find Peter.’ I did this and you’re kind enough to come. We’re here in the presence of God to listen to you.” So Peter began to tell them the good news about Jesus Christ. He mentioned forgiveness of sins in Jesus’ name but had to stop. The Holy Spirit had fallen on everyone listening. The Jewish believers with Peter were astounded. The Father’s gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured on the Gentiles! “Let’s baptize these people in the name of Jesus Christ,” said Peter. And they stayed there for several days.

White Men of Europe: put aside, if you can, the memory of two world wars in which we joined hands with our mortal enemies to slaughter your finest young men - we too shed our blood in those unholy wars. Forgive us for being so blind - for turning the deadly power of our might against you, instead of the Jewish Communism that is now devouring us all. Forgive us for the misery and degradation we forced upon you, and join us in a last ditch fight for our race and respective nations. THIS TIME it will be different! THIS TIME we shall stand together as brothers against a common foe. THIS TIME the traitors will find no White Man anywhere who will listen to their lies and fight their battles for them. THIS TIME we shall have no mercy for those who have caused untold suffering among our people; we shall give no quarter to those who have lived among us for no purpose other than to destroy us. THIS TIME - together - WE SHALL DRIVE THE BASTARDS TO THE WALL!

Ken sos tu? I am Rebecca (Rivka, Rebekah) from my mother’s mother and the wife of Isaac in the Bible. The name means “to tie firmly” or “to snare,” which is why—or so her mother used to tell her when she struggled at sewing—she could, with practice, become skilled with a needle and thread. I am Camayor, from my mother’s father, Behor Camayor of blessed memory, and also Cohen, high priests descended from the sons of Aaron, a name she feels she must live up to, though she’ll hide it as needed and may God forgive her. I am from the pomegranate tree my father planted at my birth, from my nuns in white habits, my staircase with the worn ninth tread, the candlelight reflected in my fingernails. I am a gypsy girl, because to have no home place had once seemed romantic and she could do the dance, just as she could climb ropes at gymnastics, rising and lowering at will. Or was it actually that home, back then, was everywhere?

He applies forgiveness to all humankind for all time. How? Why is this death, this blood, this forgiveness universal? I suspect it is because the blood shed is the blood of God, who is himself universal, an eternal storehouse of mercy. This God who is universal love empties himself and pours eternal life into the cosmos through the wounds of that first century Jewish Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth.

It was there that I understood what long-time leader at the Jewish National Fund and lifelong Zionist Yosef Weitz said long ago in his diary (popularized in the 2021 film Blue Box): “The Arabs will never forgive us for what we have done to them.

..Jesus was not to recapture for the Jewish vacuous ethos, the original value of the community on which it had wagered its whole life and weight. Rightly diagnosing Jewry's disease, he rejected not only their failure to comply with their ethic but the very foundation of that ethic. Piercing the walls of community survival, Jesus opened a whole new vista of genuine, properly ethical values, namely, the values of the individual person. The value of the community, no matter how 'surviving' and prosperous it may be or become, Jesus found inferior to that of the individual person. It is the latter that the community must serve. In respect to it, the value of the community can be only instrumental. The value of the individual person, the values which pertain to his inner self, are far more important than those which attach to community survival. For, what is the worth of the whole world and all mankind if the individual souls that compose it are ethically sick, if they do not realize the values of purity, of chastity, of sincerity, of charity, of forgiveness, of loving kindness and goodness? The ethical individual person is the end of moral life itself. How can community survival have anything but elemental worth? Even on this level of instruments and means, how can it have the first position? Are not the conditions of life and existence , which readily conduce to the cultivation of the moral person, of greater importance and therefore, of higher value? Would not the family with its ultimate self-sacrifice and love-cultivating atmosphere prove of higher worth than the community where everything must be impersonalized ,legalized, and exteriorized? Pursuing this same insight further, would not even solitude rank higher than community, where the person can turn his eyes inward and , as it were, focus attention on what his self actually is , on what it ought to be which it is not, and on bringing that self around to become that which it ought to be?

The effort of religions to inspire a sense of community does not stop at introducing us to one other. Religions have also been clever at solving some of what goes wrong inside groups once they are formed. It has been the particular insight of Judaism to focus on anger: how easy it is to feel it, how hard it is to express it and how frightening and awkward it is to appease it in others. We can see this especially clearly in the Jewish Day of Atonement, one of the most psychologically effective mechanisms ever devised for the resolution of social conflict. Falling on the tenth day of Tishrei, shortly after the beginning of the Jewish new year, the Day of Atonement (or Yom Kippur) is a solemn and critical event in the Hebrew calendar. Leviticus instructs that on this date, Jews must set aside their usual domestic and commercial activities and mentally review their actions over the preceding year, identifying all those whom they have hurt or behaved unjustly towards. Together in synagogue, they must repeat in prayer: ‘We have sinned, we have acted treacherously, we have robbed, we have spoken slander. We have acted perversely, we have acted wickedly, we have acted presumptuously, we have been violent, we have framed lies.’ They must then seek out those whom they have frustrated, angered, discarded casually or otherwise betrayed and offer them their fullest contrition. This is God’s will, and a rare opportunity for blanket forgiveness. ‘All the people are in fault,’ says the evening prayer, and so ‘may all the people of Israel be forgiven, including all the strangers who live in their midst’.

The Binding of Isaac and the Binding of You and Me With Rosh Hashanah coming in a few weeks, it is a good time to think about some of its important lessons. The High Holy Days are a time to evaluate our relationship with important people in our lives. We ask their forgiveness, they ask ours, and if there is regret for past faults and insensitive acts (Tradition calls them “sins”), we lend forgiveness to others, and they to us. Rosh Hashanah is also a time to think about our relation with our Tradition, with Judaism. It is the Jewish New Year, and a time to reexamine where we stand with regard to the faith/culture/civilization we call Judaism. Those hearing these words have already taken significant steps toward solidifying their Jewish connections by joining a synagogue, coming to religious worship, and doing many other Jewish things in our lives. Take a few moments—even a few hours—to think about and discuss your Jewish values and priorities with your loved ones and intellectual sparring partners. How can you deepen and strengthen your Jewish ties and commitments in the coming year? Perhaps that is why we are bidden to hear the sound of the Shofar each morning for thirty days during the month of Elul, before Rosh Hashanah, as well as on the New Year itself. The Talmud, in tractate “Rosh Hashanah” (16a), tells us: “Rabbi Abahu said: Why do we use the horn of a ram on Rosh Hashanah? Because the Blessed Holy One is saying to us: If you blow a horn from a ram before Me on Rosh Hashanah, I will be reminded of the act of ultimate faith performed by Avraham when he was ready to carry out my demand, even though a ram was eventually sacrificed in place of Yitzhak. The merit of Avraham will reflect merit on you, his descendants. In fact, when you blow the Shofar, and I remember the Binding (Hebrew: Akedah) of Yitzhak I will attribute to you the merit of having bound (Hebrew: akad-tem) yourselves to me. As we begin to blow the Shofar each morning, from the first day of the Hebrew month of Elul, let’s begin to think about how we bind ourselves to God. About our Jewish boundaries, the ties that bind us to our Jewish past. Let’s think of how our ritual lives can be enriched and enhanced with more song, custom, prayer and ceremony. Let’s think of how we can give ourselves to more Jewish causes (Israel, Jewish education, the synagogue), and how being Jewish can help bind and tie us to the needs of humanity (the environment, the needs of our community, the eradication of poverty and injustice). Rabbi Dov Peretz Elkins

When his teaching is more straightforward, it is no less baffling or challenging. Blessed are the meek (Mt 5:5); to look at a woman with lust is to commit adultery (Mt 5:28); forgive wrongs seventy times seven (Mt 18:22); you can't be my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions (Lk 14:33); no divorce (Mk 10:9); love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you (Mt 5:44). A passage that gives us the keys to the reign, or kingdom, of God is Matthew 25:31–46, the scene of the judgment of the nations: Then the king will say to those on his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” As Mother Teresa put it, we meet Christ in the distressing disguise of the poor. Jesus’ teaching and witness is obviously relevant to social, economic, and political issues. Indeed, the Jewish leaders and the Romans (the powers that be of the time) found his teaching and actions disturbing enough to arrest him and execute him. A scene from the life of Clarence Jordan drives home the radicalism and relevance of Jesus’ message. In the early 1950s Clarence approached his brother, Robert Jordan, a lawyer and future state senator and justice of the Georgia Supreme Court, to legally represent Koinonia Farm. Clarence, I can't do that. You know my political aspirations. Why if I represented you, I might lose my job, my house, everything I've got. We might lose everything too, Bob. It's different for you. Why is it different? I remember, it seems to me, that you and I joined the church the same Sunday, as boys. I expect when we came forward the preacher asked me about the same question he did you. He asked me, “Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?” And I said, “Yes.” What did you say? I follow Jesus, Clarence, up to a point. Could that point by any chance be—the cross? That's right. I follow him to the cross, but not on the cross. I'm not getting myself crucified. Then I don't believe you're a disciple. You're an admirer of Jesus, but not a disciple of his. I think you ought to go back to the church you belong to, and tell them you're an admirer not a disciple. Well now, if everyone who felt like I do did that, we wouldn't have a church, would we? The question, Clarence said, is, “Do you have a church?”25 The early Christian community tried to live according to the values of the reign of God that Jesus proclaimed, to be disciples. The Jerusalem community was characterized by unlimited liability and total availability for each other, sharing until everyone's needs were met (Acts 2:43–47; 4:32–37).26 Paul's exhortation to live a new life in Christ in his letter to the Romans, chapters 12 through 15, has remarkable parallels to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, chapters 5 through 7, and Luke 6:20–49.27 Both Jesus and Paul offer practical steps for conflict resolution and peacemaking. Similarly, the Epistle of James exhorts Christians to “be doers of the word and not merely hearers who deceive themselves” (1:22), and warns against class divisions (2:1–13) and the greed and corruption of the wealthy (5:1–6).

When you realize that you’re guilty of the same sins that others are, you realize that you shouldn’t bear grudges against them, but you should forgive and love them instead.

From the start, Jesus appeared to be a different kind of rabbi. He seemed to disregard the many customary laws that defined proper behavior for Jewish people. He put people before laws. His “new way” was forgiving and kind. Jesus didn’t come off as a rabble-rouser but as a friend to people on the outside, people suspected of not being pure, people most religious leaders disliked.

Luke relates three instances of Jesus having been invited to meals in the houses of Pharisees. He omits controversial passages (such as Mk 7:1-20), which might have been experienced as unpleasant by Jews. He does not apply the parable of the tenants to the chief priests and the Pharisees, as Matthew does. In his passion narrative the crowd does not cry out, “His blood be on us and on our children!” (Mt 27:25); instead, Luke mentions that “a great multitude of the people” mourned and lamented over Jesus (23:27). Only Luke has the Crucified pray, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (23:34), and it is highly unlikely that he intends to suggest that Jesus is praying only for his Roman executioners. Actually, Luke frequently emphasizes that the Jewish authorities did what they did out of ignorance (cf Acts 3:17; 13:27).

Luke writes his two-volume work in the wake of the devastation of the Jewish War, in which the political hopes of the Zealots were crushed; many of his readers lived in a war-torn country, occupied by foreign troops who often took advantage of the population; violence and banditry have been their meat and drink for many a year (cf Ford 1984:1-12). They have, in a real sense, reaped the whirlwind. And now Luke presents them with a challenge: Jesus and his powerful message of nonviolent resistance and, above all; of loving one's enemy in word and deed. The peace that comes with Jesus is not won through weapons, but through love, forgiveness, and acceptance of one's enemies into the covenant community (:136). “Everyone who believes in him” is welcome—this is the astonishing discovery that Peter makes in his encounter with Cornelius (Acts 10:43). The Lukan Jesus turns his back on the in-group exegesis of his contemporaries by challenging their “ethic of election” (cf Nissen 1984:75f). From the Nazareth episode onward, Luke has his eye on the Christian church, where there is room for rich and poor, Jew and Gentile, even oppressor and oppressed (cf Schottroff and Stegemann 1986:37; Sundermeier 1986:72)—which does not, of course, suggest that conditions should remain what they are. This may also help to explain the fact

Luke records the parable Jesus told His disciples. He begins the story this way: “A man had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the estate that falls to me.’ So he divided his wealth between them. And not many days later, the younger son gathered everything together and went on a journey into a distant country, and there he squandered his estate with loose living. Now when he had spent everything, a severe famine occurred in that country, and he began to be impoverished. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would have gladly filled his stomach with the pods that the swine were eating, and no one was giving anything to him.” (15:11–16) Jesus told this parable so that His followers would have an accurate portrayal of His heavenly Father’s love and grace. Many had wondered what God was like. Christ’s description in this story was certainly unlike anything they had been taught. Their lives had been steeped in Jewish tradition and following the letter of the law of Moses. Jesus, however, portrayed God as a loving, forgiving, tenderhearted Father who understands our weaknesses and frailties. He is Someone who hears our prayers and our cries for help. He forgives sin, fills us with His Spirit, and restores us so we can learn to love Him better and honor His name in all that we do.

Sacrifices show that with God sin is a life-and-death matter; it must be atoned by shedding blood. Human beings cannot by their own efforts obtain forgiveness and thus regain access to God.

My Hebrew teachers said I should like Esther for saving the Jews, but I was more interested in the bit before that, where she gets her king by winning a beauty contest. I imagined her as pretty as Sleeping Beauty, but a brunette. With green eyes. All right, I imagined her as a gorgeous, grown-up version of myself. And she was Jewish, and she did become a queen. (At Hebrew school, we skated over the fact that she married a man who wasn’t Jewish. Everything was forgivable in a heroine who saved the Jews.) Later,

O HAPPY FAULT! The Jewish mystic Baal Shem had a curious way of praying to God. “Remember, Lord,” he would say, “you need me just as much as I need you. If you did not exist, whom would I pray to? If I did not exist, who would do the praying?” It brought me joy to think that if I had not sinned God would have had no occasion to be forgiving.

If there is a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness.

The life which [Jesus] now lives in the Gospels is simply the old life lived over and over again. And in that life we have no place; in that life we are spectators, not actors. The life in which Jesus lives in the Gospels is after all, for us, but the spurious life of the stage. We sit silent in the playhouse and watch the absorbing Gospel drama of forgiveness and healing and love and courage and high endeavor; in rapt attention, we follow the fortunes of those who came to Jesus laboring and heavy laden and found rest. For a time, our own troubles are forgotten. But suddenly the curtain falls, with the closing of the book, and out we go again into the cold humdrum of our own lives… with our own problems and our own misery, and our own sin, And still seeking our own Savior. Let us not deceive ourselves, A Jewish teacher of the first century can never satisfy the longing of our souls. Clothe Him with all the art of modern research, throw upon Him… modern sentimentality; and despite it all, common sense will come to its rights again, and for our brief hour of self-deception - as through we had been with Jesus - will wreak upon us the revenge of hopeless disillusionment.

Once you catch Jesus’s reference, you understand the contrast he is making. He is saying that his followers should be as eager to forgive as Lamech was to take vengeance. Just as Lamech was vowing a punishment that far exceeded the crime, we should let our forgiveness far exceed the wrong done to us. We should be Lamech’s polar opposite, making it our goal to forgive as extravagantly and completely as possible. Amazing

How will you find happiness in this world and peace in the world to come? By learning these wisdom practices from your ancestors: Honor those who gave you life Be kind Keep learning Invite others into your life Be there when others need you Celebrate good times Support yourself and others during times of loss Pray with intention Forgive Look inside and commit

The growth of Israeli influence in Europe presents a curious historical milestone and an unresolved contradiction. After the annihilation of Jews in the Holocaust, Germany has become the most consistently pro-Israel nation on the continent and is Israel’s biggest trading partner in Europe. German Chancellor Angela Merkel visited Israel in October 2021 on one of her final overseas visits before leaving office; it was her eighth trip during her sixteen years in power. She did not travel to the West Bank or Gaza. She praised the Jewish state, despite acknowledging that Israel did not embrace her favored two-state solution to the conflict with the Palestinians, but this did not matter because “the topic of Israel’s security will always be of central importance and a central topic of every German government.” It was an emotional connection, Merkel stressed, and one rooted in historical reconciliation and forgiveness. “The fact that Jewish life has found a home again in Germany after the crimes of humanity of the Shoah is an immeasurable sign of trust, for which we are grateful,” she wrote in the guest book at Jerusalem’s Holocaust memorial

He applies forgiveness to all humankind for all time. How? Why is this death, this blood, this forgiveness universal? I suspect it is because the blood shed is the blood of God, who is himself universal, an eternal storehouse of mercy. This God who is universal love empties himself and pours eternal life into the cosmos through the wounds of that first century Jewish Rabbit, Jesus of Nazareth.

Forgiveness without moral law leads to humanism and crime. Moral law without forgiveness leads to religiosity and condemnation. Christianity that does not see Yeshua as the Law-giver is in danger of humanistic relativism and becoming an excuse for Western moral decadence. Judaism without the grace of Yeshua as the Law-forgiver is in danger of legalist extremism and becoming a Jewish version of Islamic Sharia law.

However, what Girard uncovers in the literature of the Jewish and Christian religions offers another narrative perspective. While other religious myths tend to conceal the scapegoat mechanism by framing reality from the perspective of the persecutors, the biblical stories speak from the perspective of the victim.26 In the Hebrew Scriptures, Israel tells the story of their people and their God with a focus on their own failures.27 They are the slave people whom God rescues, the unfaithful covenant breakers whom God forgives, and their laws and stories reveal God’s preference for the victimized and downtrodden. Instead of keeping victims invisible, the Bible tells their stories: Abel whose blood cries out from the ground, Joseph who is a victim of his brothers’ mimetic violence, and Hagar who is sent into the wilderness as Sarah’s scapegoat.

When we see the victory of Jesus in relation to the biblical Passover tradition, reshaped through the Jewish longing for the “forgiveness of sins” as a liberating event within history, we see the early Christian movement not as a “religion” in the modern sense at all, but as a complete new way of being human in the world and for the world.

the Jewish philosopher Hannah Arendt said, the only remedy for the inevitability of history is forgiveness; otherwise, we remain trapped in the “predicament of irreversibility.

For Christians, the ultimate historical struggle between conservatives and progressives is the struggle between Jesus and the Jewish religious leaders of his day. The conservative, intransigent religious establishment loathed and feared Jesus partly because he reinterpreted everything in both scripture and tradition through the lens of himself as the Christ, the unique and pre-existent Son of God. This seemed the outer limit of heresy. I absolutely sympathize with the conservatives, for Jesus was right when he said from the cross, “Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they do.” They did not know. They thought their hatred was pleasing to God. They thought their rejection of Jesus would keep society rightly ordered. They were definitely on the side of scripture as interpreted by their tradition, but we can see that scripture had been incorrectly appropriated by skewed tradition.

When Napoleon crossed the Rhine, the German princes panicked, knowing that Napoleon's first goal was the confiscation of their wealth. As a result, the Prince of Hesse-Cassel gave his gold to Mayer Amschel Rothschild, who then sent it out of the country, to his son Nathan, who was living in London. Having inside information about Napoleon's defeat at the Battle of Waterloo, Nathan made a fortune by using the Prince of Hesse-Cassel's gold to speculate on the British consol. As a result, he became the richest man in England. Over the course of the next century, the Rothschild family and other Jewish usurers used that wealth to enslave the English aristocracy with debt. The most prominent example was the Churchill family. When Winston Churchill's father died, he was 60,000 pounds in debt to Natty Rothschild. By forgiving Randolph's debt, Natty Rothschild made his son Winston a pawn of Jewish interests, a fact which led indirectly to World War

When Winston Churchill's father died, he was 60,000 pounds in debt to Natty Rothschild. By forgiving Randolph's debt, Natty Rothschild made his son Winston a pawn of Jewish interests, a fact which led indirectly to World War

In the Jewish quarter of Konya, in a tavern owned by a Christian, we, a mixed bunch of wine lovers of all faiths, raised our glasses and toasted together, hard though it was to believe, to a God who could love and forgive us even when we ourselves clearly failed to do so.

Second, the means by which this goal is attained is precisely the “forgiveness of sins.” If, as Paul implies in 2:15, the objection of Jews (or Jewish Messiah believers) to the inclusion of Gentiles is that they are “Gentile sinners,” then this objection is overturned precisely because the Messiah “gave himself for our sins.