A Perfect Apology

Rabbi's Notes - September 2000

by Rabbi Margaret Holub

We woke up this morning to a crisp breeze that my skin recognizes. I used to come up here to the Coast just for the High Holy Days and the ten days in between, and while I was here I became sensitized to a very precise early fall quality to the air and light. There's a tone to the air that says "Rosh Hashana!" Today I feel those sensations again. The season is turning that direction. The new moon of Ellul rises August 31, and the opportunity arises again for all that good, juicy Ellul reflection.

I just had an Ellul teaching come my way in the form of a gorgeous, rich, beautifully executed apology. This apology was a work of art. Someone I barely knew had done something irritating to me -- well, a little more than irritating, downright angering. Things like that happen all the time. Someone says something hurtful, or they pass on some damaging information, or they take something that's yours or put their need ahead of yours. Usually these things just come and go, and you stay irritated until other irritations take their place and you forget. But you stay a little wary of that person forever. If it's someone close, you make yourself a little less close. If it's someone you can avoid, you avoid them. And so it goes...

Now needless to say, people don't usually do and say these hurtful things in a void. Usually there's some kind of a conflict going on already -- maybe, well probably, you have also done something unwelcome in the other person's direction. In my particular case this other person and I both wanted the same thing. Each of us moved towards it. She didn't like my move, and I wasn't crazy about hers. She said something quite public about what I had done, and I was outraged. Happens all the time, right? I just thought, "Well, no wonder she said that. She is a jerk," and let it go at that.

But one day life put us in the same place again, and you could practically see the bristles go up on both our necks. And she did a beautiful thing. She said, "I am so sorry I said such and such." And she went on: "It must have really been hurtful to you." "Yes, it sure was," I pouted. "You said this and that, and I didn't like it." "I do that sometimes," she continued, "and I really need to be more careful about it." "You sure do!" And again she said, "I just want you to know how sorry I am."

She didn't offer excuses for why she did it. She didn't point out the wrong things I had done that made her do what she had done, though she well could have. She took my hurt feelings seriously. She reflected on what she had done to hurt me and why she did it. And she at least offered to try to act differently the next time around.

I could feel my neck bristles lie back down. I could feel my heart open. The conflict that had separated us began to shift until I could see that we were on the same side -- two people who wanted the same thing, two scared people thinking we were going to lose out, two people in the same community who both wanted to live in peace with the people around them and couldn't quite figure out how to do that in a tight circumstance. That apology, those words, changed the whole universe in that moment, created peace and connection.

I don't think that she realized that she was offering a perfect Maimonidean act of teshuvah, following the formula to the letter. But she did:

• a specific, detailed apology and request for forgiveness;
• an acknowledgement of the damage done;
• (the third point is restitution where this is possible -- in this case she didn't need to further restore me ;)
• a promise that, when given the chance again, she would not repeat the hurtful deed. Maimonides' fourth point is not the promise, but its accomplishment. Her teshuvah will be complete when she has the opportunity again to speak angry words in public and she does not. Which I am quite sure will be the case next time.

Needless to say, this beautiful apology moved me -- without being asked to in any way -- to reflect on the hurt I had done in the same circumstances, and, I hope, to also seek forgiveness in a complete way. She took the first step, created the opening. Sometimes we're in a conflict where the other person does ninety percent of the damage, and we've just done ten. We can still ask forgiveness for our ten percent, and perhaps the universe will shift so that our opponent sees the great quotient of hurt that they have caused. Or maybe they won't. In any case, our responsibility is only for our own teshuvah and our own peace of conscience.

Apology is a kind of magic formula, an "open sesame" to the heart of the opponent. Like all good magic, it is difficult to do. Every day is the right day to apologize if we've hurt someone. We shouldn't wait for Ellul. But the month of Ellul does us a favor. It makes it a little easier, because it creates a season of forgiveness, a time when we might expect that the heart of our opponent might already be a little more open. More peace! Happy Ellul, my dear community.

Copyright 2000 Rabbi Margaret Holub

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