Judaism Forgiveness Quotes

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.

The word amen, which found its way from Judaism into Christianity and Islam, crossing cultures and continents, borders and chasms, is in fact an acronym of the Hebrew phrase ‘el melech ne’eman.’ Spoken in response to a blessing, it means: the words of the blessing are true and may they come to pass…Since that word is so universal, it symbolizes for me, much as literature does, everything that we, all of humanity, have in common despite the differences in our way of thinking, in our faith, and our inner and outer landscapes, the living, quivering hope of every human being for forgiveness, salvation, mercy. And so I think that even the very fact of its existence is comforting, although all our wishes may not come true.

Maybe God is only the most powerful poetic idea we humans’re capable of thinkin’,” he said one night, after a few drinks. “Maybe God has no reality outside our minds and exists only in the paradox of Perfect Compassion and Perfect Justice. Or maybe,” he suggested, slouching back in his chair and favoring her with a lopsided, wily grin, “maybe God is exactly as advertised in the Torah. Maybe, along with all its other truths and beauties, Judaism preserves for each generation of us the reality of the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, of Moses—the God of Jesus.” A cranky, uncanny God, D.W. called Him. “A God with quirky, unfathomable rules, a God who gets fed up with us and pissed off! But quick to forgive, Sofia, and generous,

For Jews, Jesus is unnecessary or a redundancy; he is not needed to save from sin or from death, since Judaism proclaims a deity ready to forgive repentant sinners and since it asserts that “all Israel has a share in the world to come” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 10:1).

You know, in Judaism, there are two wrongs that can’t be forgiven. The first is murder, because you have to actually go to the wronged party and plead your case, and obviously you can’t if the victim is six feet underground. But the second unforgivable wrong is ruining someone’s reputation. Just like a dead person can’t forgive the murderer, a good reputation can’t ever be reclaimed.

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....

The fate of the Gospels was decided by death—it hung on the “cross.”... It was only death, that unexpected and shameful death; it was only the cross, which was usually reserved for the canaille only—it was only this appalling paradox which brought the disciples face to face with the real riddle: “Who was it? what was it?”—The feeling of dismay, of profound affront and injury; the suspicion that such a death might involve a refutation of their cause; the terrible question, “Why just in this way?”—this state of mind is only too easy to understand. Here everything must be accounted for as necessary; everything must have a meaning, a reason, the highest sort of reason; the love of a disciple excludes all chance. Only then did the chasm of doubt yawn: “Who put him to death? who was his natural enemy?”—this question flashed like a lightning-stroke. Answer: dominant Judaism, its ruling class. From that moment, one found one’s self in revolt against the established order, and began to understand Jesus as in revolt against the established order. Until then this militant, this nay-saying, nay-doing element in his character had been lacking; what is more, he had appeared to present its opposite. Obviously, the little community had not understood what was precisely the most important thing of all: the example offered by this way of dying, the freedom from and superiority to every feeling of ressentiment—a plain indication of how little he was understood at all! All that Jesus could hope to accomplish by his death, in itself, was to offer the strongest possible proof, or example, of his teachings in the most public manner.... But his disciples were very far from forgiving his death—though to have done so would have accorded with the Gospels in the highest degree; and neither were they prepared to offer themselves, with gentle and serene calmness of heart, for a similar death.... On the contrary, it was precisely the most unevangelical of feelings, revenge, that now possessed them. It seemed impossible that the cause should perish with his death: “recompense” and “judgment” became necessary (—yet what could be less evangelical than “recompense,” “punishment,” and “sitting in judgment”!). Once more the popular belief in the coming of a messiah appeared in the foreground; attention was rivetted upon an historical moment: the “kingdom of God” is to come, with judgment upon his enemies.... But in all this there was a wholesale misunderstanding: imagine the “kingdom of God” as a last act, as a mere promise! The Gospels had been, in fact, the incarnation, the fulfilment, the realization of this “kingdom of God.” It was only now that all the familiar contempt for and bitterness against Pharisees and theologians began to appear in the character of the Master—he was thereby turned into a Pharisee and theologian himself!

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.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." John1:1 Words carry great power, it is quite important to know not so much what the dictionary says that they mean, but what the ancients say that they mean. Judaism believes that the entirety was created by rearranging the 22 letters of its alphabet into words, and whatever was spelled by God was created. "And God SAID let there be light and there was" God said/spelled a word first before any creation. In the beginning, was the word. Jesus, while on the cross, could have easily said, "Forgive them Father for they know not what they say

Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament) One of the distinguishing characteristics of Judaism, the religion of Jesus, is its sense of moral and social responsibility. After liberating the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt in the Exodus, God made explicit God's covenant with this people through Moses at Mount Sinai—“I am your God, and you are my people.” The primary conditions for being God's people were to worship God alone (monotheism and the prohibition of idolatry) and to create a just community (righteousness and justice). God insists that the Hebrews respect the rights and needs of the alien (or immigrant), the widow, and the orphan—that is, the marginal and vulnerable people—reminding them that they were once slaves in Egypt and that their God is the defender of the oppressed (Deut 24:17–18; 26:12–15; Ex 22:21–24; Jer 22:3).17 The laws regarding the forgiveness of debts during sabbatical years (Deut 15:1–11 and Lev 25:1–7) and the return to the original equality among the twelve tribes of Israel during the Jubilee year (Lev 25:8–17) symbolize the justice and community required of the Hebrew people.18 After the Hebrew people settled in the Promised Land, oppression came to characterize Israel. The God who had liberated the people from oppression in Egypt now sent prophets who called them to adhere to the requirements of the covenant or face the fate of the Egyptians—destruction. The Hebrew prophets (eighth century to sixth century B.C.E.), such as Amos, Micah, Hosea, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, accused the people of infidelity to the covenant because of their idolatry and the social injustice they created.19 The warnings and the promises of the prophets remind each generation of God's passion for justice and God's faithful love. In Judaism, one's relationship with God (faith) affects one's relationship with others, the community, and the earth (justice).20 Faith and justice are relational, both personally and communally.

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

The Irish, passionate island people, are willing to die for every inch of their land but can’t decide where their land starts and where it ends. They remind me of the Israelis, who have a similar problem. They should marry one another, the Irish and the Israelis, I think; it will be so much fun to watch. The Scots, this island’s habitual complainers, will never forgive the English for making them drop the kilt. They should marry the Palestinians, and together they could breed as many complainers as possible, leading a life of perpetual tragedies, which is exactly what they want. The English, the mightiest of the four nations on this island, are the biggest actors on the planet, though not necessarily onstage, and you can count on them to fool you. They are doing well, thank you, and don’t have to marry anyone. They will find a way to make children from the trees; don’t you worry about them. The Welsh? Well, they are the friendliest, warmest of the bunch, and the best kissers to boot. Yeah!

You don’t make peace with only with God. You make it with people. Sin isn’t global. It’s personal. If you do wrong to someone, the only way to fix that is to go to that same person and do right by him. Which is why murder, to a Jew, is unforgivable.

Repentance might bring peace to the killer, but what about the ones who’ve been killed? I may not consider myself a Jew, but do I still have responsibility to the relatives of mine who were religious, and were murdered for it?

The earliest atrocity of my religion began just decades after Jesus lived and died. He taught and modeled love and radical forgiveness, but the religion that sprang up around his name very quickly showed a hateful face, and the first victim of its hostility was its own mother: Judaism

As for forgiveness—in Judaism, only the living can forgive. I have no authority to forgive on behalf of those who have been slaughtered.

in this passage we find the first time in Mark that the term “Son of Man” is applied to Jesus (2:10).1 What, then, do Jesus’s actions, together with this title, tell us about his identity? In this essay we will compare Mark’s Son of Man with the figure known as the Son of Man in the Parables of Enoch (1 En. 37–71) in order to demonstrate that Mark portrays Jesus having a divine identity and exercising divine authority as he teaches, heals, and forgives sins.

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.

Musa ho, isaa ho , ya khatmun-nabi Mohammad Ae aadam, ae Abraham teri aualado ke dil ki gaflate mitaa —Wajid shaikh Be you Moses, Jesus Christ, or Muhammad divine, O Adam, O Abraham, in your grace we entwine, Forgive the hearts of your kin, let your light shine.” —Wajid Shaikh Translation: "Whether you are Moses, Jesus, or the Seal of the Prophets, Muhammad, O Adam, O Abraham, erase the errors of your descendants' hearts." Explanation: This verse appears to be expressing a plea to figures from various religious traditions, such as Adam, Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and the final Prophet, Muhammad. It suggests a desire for them to help remove the mistakes or sins from the hearts of their descendants. It reflects a universal and spiritual message of seeking guidance, forgiveness, and purity in the context of different religious beliefs.

Fear of Dragons Lawrence Kohlberg, who wrote some excellent material on levels of moral development, charted what each level of moral development was like, describing six distinct levels. He was clear about the difficulty of seeing reality, especially moral or spiritual reality. He concluded that we are incapable of understanding a stage more than one beyond our own. A third-level person can’t make sense of what someone on the fifth level is saying. It is meaningless. That’s what we’re up against when we preach the Gospel. Jesus, in Kohlberg’s schema, is a sixth-level person. Many people have not done their first-, second-, and third-level work of conscience. They’re really not bad-willed; they just can’t understand a higher, more complex moral understanding. I’ve had to accept this from some who attack preaching and teaching. They’re not necessarily ill-willed; they just have no idea where the Gospel is coming from. They have some growing to do yet. It really helps to understand this so we are less apt to be judgmental of them. Jesus meant what he said: “Forgive them, they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). The vast majority of people, according to Kohlberg, remain in the first levels of moral development. The Gospel of Jesus will always be a minority position, as will mystical Judaism, Islam, or Buddhism. If we’re not willing to be led through our fears and anxieties, we will never see or grow. We must always move from one level to a level we don’t completely understand yet. Every step up the ladder of moral development is taken in semi-darkness, by the light of faith. The greatest barrier to the next level of conscience or consciousness is our comfort and control at the one we are at now. Our first response to anyone calling us to truth, greatness, goodness, or morality at a higher level will be increased anxiety. We don’t say, “Isn’t this wonderful.” Instead, we recoil in terror and say, “I don’t know if I want to go there.” At the edges of medieval maps was frequently penciled the warning: “Here be dragons.” We confront these dragons when we approach the edge of our comfort level.