Repairing. It takes two
With the approach of the High Holy Days, we who are rabbis are beginning to write our sermons focused on the concepts of return and repentance. We emphasize the need to “fix the world” as well as ourselves.
But life is not so simple. I find that we are like icebergs in the ocean — only the superficial tip is visible, and the rest lives in the nine-tenths submerged underwater. The reality is not discernible without close contact.
Are we willing to accept the new dynamic that repentance requires? Do we ever really understand the consequences of fixing the world?
Years ago, my congregation did volunteer work in Eastern Kentucky, building access ramps to houses. In these poor counties where diabetes is rampant, many residents have lost legs and can leave their homes only with help from friends or EMTs. By building ramps, we gave residents some independence and freedom.
One ramp, which measured well over 90 feet, took almost a week to build. The day it was finished, the wheelchair-confined owner was able to navigate his own exit for the first time in years.
The next day, his wife left him. Now that he was “free,” she took advantage of his “freedom” to flee from her “slavery.”
As we reflect and look to correct past missteps to improve lost relationships, do we take into consideration that it takes two? We cannot rebuild a relationship without cooperation, so does the other party want to play? A rekindled relationship with a parent, sibling or friend usually exacts a price — are we willing to pay the price required?
We rabbis love to quote this text about “keeping the peace.” In our tradition, Aaron the Kohen Gadol (high priest) was described as a “lover of peace.” In the example given, he would go to two warring parties and lie about how much the other wanted to reconcile. The text concludes that when they finally came face to face, they embraced and all was well.
But don’t try this at home! It rarely works. The key part of the text is that Aaron was the High Priest. When the High Priest comes to you with unasked-for advice, you had better listen.
One of the true ironies of our present is that global reality mimics this dynamic. “Let’s get Israel out of Gaza!” ignores that you need a partner to dance. And what are the consequences of a departure? That we know because it’s been done before?
If you are willing to repair a relationship (or unilaterally declare a cease fire) and you don’t have the cooperation of the other party, don’t act surprised when you find yourself back in the toxic dynamic that you fled because you were not prepared for it.
So, yes, we do think about return and repent. But anyone (especially rabbis) who suggests that it’s easy or just involves “turning around and taking that first step” is not someone I would follow.
