Monday, October 07, 2019

The Human Condition

We are not perfect. It can be a hard pill to swallow, we like to think that we are in the right, that we know at all times what is the right course of action, what is the right view to take, but the sad truth is that we are not perfect and therefore we can also be wrong, however painful that can be to admit, and for many of us that is perhaps these most painful thing to come to terms with. We are not perfect. We make mistakes.

We are not perfect and we make mistakes and this is true of even the most brilliant minds, the greatest leaders, the most inspiring religious figures, the most innovative pioneering scientists and doctors. Sometimes precisely because these people are so many heads and shoulders above the rest of us and their influence so much greater their mistakes, however well meaning, are also that much greater and more egregious.

On Kol Nidrei night at the start of Yom Kippur we publicly state that we are permitted to pray with sinners, with wrongdoers, even with criminals. It's easy to imagine others in the congregation who may have done wrong, been hurtful, sinned, but when we utter these words we need to remember that they refer to us to, we are one of those wrongdoers who need to repent, for who amongst us, however righteous, however well meaning, has not, even if accidentally, even if just by simple thoughtlessness or a misunderstanding, sinned and harmed others?

It is the nature of humans to err, only God is perfect, and because this is so hard for us to remember we have Yom Kippur each year to remind us. God doesn't need us to spend a day in synagogue reciting prayers to glorify Him, we need it to remind us that we are human beings who make mistakes and need to ask forgiveness. We need this gutwrenching lesson in humility to remind us to be kind, to forgive, to give our fellow flawed human beings a chance to repent, to start afresh, to mend their ways, just as we ourselves hope and pray to be able to do the same.

The Torah doesn't prettify our national leaders and heroes. It describes them warts and all, their lofty heights of leadership, courage and inspiration, yes, but also the depths to which their all too human flaws brought them at times. Real people with real faults who made some very real, sometimes very awful, mistakes.

They were not perfect beings because we do not believe that humans can be perfect beings, only God is perfect, we are created in His image, we can aspire to emulate Him, we can aspire to do good and come as close to perfection as humanly possible, but we are still human, and to be human is to have flaws, even though we do our best to overcome them.

Not one of us could exist if there were no second chances, no chance to sincerely repent, to be forgiven and start afresh on a hopefully better path. If our founding fathers and biblical heroes were perfect Godlike beings how would we learn this? Yehuda's crime against his brother Joseph seems unforgivable, and yet when Joseph sees that Yehuda is in a similar situation all those years later the sincere change in Yehuda's behaviour is there for all to see, he is willing to sacrifice himself to save his younger brother, a true act of teshuva, not only repenting for the sin, but changing one's behaviour to do the right thing when put in the same situation.

So many of us hold on to the offence, the grudge, years and years later, even if the source of the mistake is long passed to irrelevance, a misunderstanding, a difference of opinion, a slight that may or may not have been intentional, a wrongheaded decision that cost us dear a long time ago but which is far far in the past. How many friendships broken, families estranged, neighbours not on speaking terms all because of something that in the scheme of things is not worth losing out on what these relationships could be, if only we could find it in our hearts to forgive, to understand the other point of view, to give the benefit of the doubt, even in so many cases, to say, yes, we were wrong.

We are not perfect. Our friends are not perfect. Our neighbours are not perfect. Our families are not perfect. But God has given us this wonderful tool to help negotiate our complex world, the gift of teshuva, repentance. To sincerely look at our lives and our behaviour, to change, to try to fix things, knowing that we may still fail. In knowing this about ourselves God also gave us insight in to how we view our fellow human beings who are just as likely to make mistakes as we are, and who are deserving of our kindness and understanding rather than an internet shaming or a lynchmob of righteous indignation.

This year I pray that we all have the wisdom and the courage to add a little more kindness to the world, a bit more understanding and more patience, a greater capacity to forgive mistakes rather than hold them against others, that we take an extra moment to reflect before pressing enter, before holding a grudge, before assuming the worst. To accept that we can still love and cherish people who's views, political, religious, ideological and otherwise, are different from ours, can still be good people. To remember that humans are complex and contrary and that even the best of us can do wrong. To remember that even when we do make mistakes, we have the capacity to change and try to make it right.

May we all be inscribed in the book of life and of blessing. May we all merit forgiveness from those we may have hurt, find it in our hearts to forgive those we perceive to have wronged us and a fresh slate in the coming year so that we can work to make our little part of the world a better, kinder, place.