Sermon:
YK - “This Age of Apology”
Metuchen
5771/2010
Rabbi
Gerald L. Zelizer
This has been the year of public apologies. They have come
in different flavors and gradations from serious to the token. Let’s start with
the serious. Richard S. Fuld former chairman and chief exec of Lehman Brothers
on the financial meltdown: “I take full responsibility for the decisions that I
made and for the actions that I took. I feel horrible about what has happened
to the company and its effects on so many – my colleagues, my shareholders, my
creditors and my clients.” And lets don’t forget the tearful and complete
apology from Umpire Jim Joyce to Armando Galarraga which deprived Gallaraga of
the rare perfect game in baseball. A little less apologetic. Allan Greenspan “I
was right 70% of the time, but I was wrong 30% of the time.”
Aside from the financial debacle, we heard other personal
apologies. There was Governor Mark Sanford, a sort of rambling, confessional
apology that leaves you worse off than before. Or the apology of Rep. Joe
Barton for apologizing to the BP chairman. All of this a long way from
the concept of American manhood espoused by John Wayne who said “Never
apologize and never explain – it’s a sign of weakness.”
After all these public apologies we may all feel like
that cartoon in the New Yorker last year. A woman is standing over her
shoulder drooped husband saying “I don’t want your apology. I want you to be
sorry.”
And ours is the same society that not too long ago
invented a way of apologizing while simultaneously delivering the blame back to
the injured party: “I am sorry you feel that way,” we say. Some
people even turn indignant if their wrong-doing is ever mentioned afterward “I
said I was sorry – what more can I do?” they complain. Plenty more according to
the Jewish religious tradition of Yom Kippur. There’s a lot more spelled out in
the Mishnah of Yoma (8:9 “Averot Sheban Adam L’makom, Yom Kipurim Mechaper” “Yom
Kippur atones for sins between a person and God” – “Yom Kippur does not really
atone for sins with another person until “Sheyerazeh Et Havero” a person has
placated his friend.”
The
truth of the matter is that I have always been skeptical of the Jewish
tradition telling us to ask people for their forgiveness prior to Yom Kippur. I
have been skeptical because that ritual, like all rituals, risks becoming an
empty gesture which can be repeated next year if it doesn’t work this year.
It risks becoming a kind of holy escape clause which we can all
use and continue with our behavior. But I have changed my mind. I now think
that it is a useful ritual because importantly it presents us with a deadline
to really consider if and how and when we apologize to those, especially those
we most love, who we may have really hurt to their core this year.
In
that vein, let me tell you two anecdotes, each very different, of apologies
which occurred in my years here. I’ll use actual
examples in which I was involved but which are outside the actual
membership of this synagogue, so as not to break any confidentiality. But the
two examples are typical enough that perhaps some in this room may recognize similarities
to their own lives.
Anecdote number 1: Two siblings did not get along
from their very young days through their middle years. This animosity prevailed
in spite of the fact that they lived but a few miles apart. When their parents
were younger, they regularly tried to intercede and mediate the animosity
between their children – but were unsuccessful. As the parents themselves aged
the siblings anger towards each other intensified. Each one tried to ally
the parents with himself. The siblings were unsuccessful because the
parents loved both children. We have all heard of the sins of the parents
visited on children. This was the opposite – it was the sins of the
children visited on the parents. There was never reconciliation or apology.
Eventually the parents died. Too late for apologies. The end. The parents went
to their graves with broken hearts.
Second anecdote. Some years ago, an acquaintance
I’ll call Rory went through a particularly contentious divorce in which he felt
victimized by his ex-wife. For many years Rory felt so bitter toward her
that he refused to take her calls and returned her letters unopened. He
continued to hold on to bitterness over what he perceived to be her greed in
the settlement. Up to this point, a regrettably familiar scenario. With the
passage of time, enough of the resentment faded for Rory to finally open a
letter from his ex-wife. He was surprised to see that it was a letter of
apology. It said: “Rory, I’m sorry about the way I treated you in the
divorce. I know you did your very best during our marriage and I honor that
part of you. I continue to feel remorse that we couldn’t figure out how to make
the marriage work. I now see the fault was mine, too. I have some good memories
from the time we were together and I never want to forget that I once loved
you with all my heart. I think we made the right decision to end the
marriage. I know I could have been more understanding and more generous than I
was, and for those failures I apologize. I wish you only the best and hope that
we can be in each other’s lives for the sake of what we once created.”
So what of our apologies, or better yet, our really
feeling sorry?
In
researching this sermon I read a wonderful book called “Effective Apology,
Mending Fences, Building Bridges and Restoring Trust” by a writer called John
Kador. Kador outlines the concrete steps and components of a real authentic and
effective apology. Let me tell you a little bit about them and maybe it will
help your life. It also occurs to me that his steps towards another
person reflect nearly the same steps that constitute apology to God which are
outlined by the great Maimonides. The five steps to apology with someone
you love or admire are: a. recognition, b. responsibility, c. remorse, d.
restitution, and e. what Kador calls repetition. Let’s talk a little about each
one as it applies to our lives.
What is recognition? Recognition is acknowledging
the offense. I was a jerk in the way I acted. I talked to you in a way that I
shouldn’t have. It’s the kind of first step that we see in our Mahzor when on
Yom Kippur the offenses of the Al Chet and Ashamnu first find their ways to the
printed page. Simple enough. The next step which Kador outlines is
responsibility. That is taking full responsibility for your role in what
happened. One of the clearest statements of responsibility I have read was that
of a sports figure, a football player named Steve Smith who hurt a team mate in
a practice and accepted responsibility in the manner that he spoke to his
teammates: “I will not put myself into a position where I will have to defend
myself, to state my side of the story. There is no side. There is only one
side, which is a lack of judgment on my part. That’s really all I have to say.
I have no excuse. All I have is the opportunity to gain the respect of my fans,
my family, etc.” That kind of clear responsibility is quite different from say
Robert Rubin, former chairman of City Group, who when referring to the
financial crisis said “We all bear responsibility for not recognizing this,
and I deeply regret that.” Rubin blamed at least a dozen forces – from trade
imbalances to a surge in the use of complex derivatives. How different the
acceptance of responsibility by Steve Smith or Robert Rubin? When you
apologize to someone who you have deeply hurt do you more resemble Smith or
Rubin? Maybe you are not the one to answer that question. Maybe it’s best to
ask the one whom you hurt so deeply?.
Kador calls step number three remorse. I prefer the
Hebrew term for remorse. In Hebrew remorse is called “Harata.” It comes from
the same word “Harat” as “etched or scratched”. Real remorse in an
apology means that you feel you have been engraved, scratched, wounded in your
flesh for what you have done. “Harata” is stronger than guilt or regret. “Harata”
is shame which penetrates the deepest recesses of your being. In the
financial debacle of last year, the closest statement to that deep “Harata”
that I have read was by James Cayne former chairman of Bear Stearns. Mr. Cayne
is quoted to have said “I have no anger only regret. Fourteen-thousand families
were affected. I personally apologize. I feel an enormous amount of pain. I
didn’t stop it.” Is your apology “Harata” the deepest remorse so that a part of
your being is scratched out and carved away?
The fourth
component of apology according to Kador is restitution. You have
recognized what you did wrong, acknowledged the impact on the person to whom
you did the wrong, and said you are sorry. But now the person wants to
hear what you are going to do about it. What action will you take to
restore trust? Restitution means not thinking less of yourself but thinking of
yourself less often. It is kind of a human acting out of what the Hazzan does tomorrow
in the Musaf service when he prostrates himself to the floor. What is the
symbolism? That he is so defective that the Almighty can walk all over him, so
to speak. Maimonides adds that Teshuvah Gemurah will never come until a
person is faced with the same example of sinning again but does not do it.
With most cases where we have hurt someone we get that chance.
But alas
says Maimonides there are some instances where we will not have that opportunity
and therefore our apologies are impossible. For example, someone who “Holek
Im Haganav” cavorts with a thief, because it is impossible to know exactly from
whom the thief stole, so it is impossible to apologize directly to the victim.
Might that apply to serious financial crisis involving intermediaries that we
have seen in the last decade? Or – says Maimonides “One who “Hamotze Avadah
V’eno Machriz Aleha Ad Sheyahzira L’Baalav” finds a lost object but does not
announce it so that the owner can come forth. Or one who eats the food of “Animyim,
Yetomim V’Almanot” “the poor, widows, or orphans” – who knows exactly for whom that
food was intended?
Tonight and tomorrow as we beat our chests, think about
the sharp rebuke you aimed at a loved one when empathy was called for. Think
of the times when you withheld praise from others because you were jealous
of their accomplishments. Think of the harsh criticism which
you heaped upon your children or your spouse, or your employees, not because
they were so awful, but because you wanted to prove who was the boss. Think
about the times you spread gossip about a friend, co-worker, or a fellow
congregant, only to find out that the gossip wasn’t true. Did you call up
every person who you told to tell them that you were wrong? Even if the reports
were true, did you realize that you were still wrong because it was
none of your business and you caused further harm? Do you spend more time
shooting people down, or lifting them up? Do you specialize at verbally assaulting
others or supporting them? Only you can answer that question for only you know
for sure. And realize, as someone said, apology to another is the best way you
can have the last word.
And lastly, there are apologies without words. There are
actions/deeds which imply apologies. They can be subtle or quite dramatic. One
dramatic example from the news of this past year. Maybe you have heard of the
vicious anti-Semitic German movie of 1940 “Jew Suss”. It was produced
under the aegis of Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. Its producer was Veit
Harlan. The film is a full scale historical drama set in the 18th
century. “Jew Suss” is the story of a Jew who passes himself off as a
Christian while, enslaving the citizens with high taxes, and forcing
himself upon a beautiful married Christian woman. The film was required
viewing for the SS. It was seen by some twenty-million German movie
goers and another twenty-million throughout the rest of
Recently in this country there was a documentary “Harlan –
In the Shadow of Jew Suss.” It chronicles the history of Harlan’s film and its
affect on his extended family through the years. The focus of the Documentary
is on Harlan’s children and grandchildren. Veit Harlan was the only
artist from the Nazi era to be charged with war crimes. He never publicly
apologized or expressed remorse for having made “Jew Suss.” The director Veit
Harlan had multiple children from various wives. Some of the
children are lenient towards their father’s legacy. But one child, Susan
Korber, married a Jewish photographer, and she committed suicide in 1989.
Susan Korber had converted to Judaism after marrying a Jew whose parents perished
in the Holocaust. The documentary includes footage of Susan Korber’s own daughter,
Jessica Jacoby (Veit Harlan’s granddaughter), trying to reconcile a horrible
truth, she says: “that one of my grandfathers was complicit in the death of the
other.” She posits that her mother’s suicide was an action which implied anger,
regret, and apology.
In
closing, I want to conclude with a prayer which is included in the newly
published Mahzor of the RA. It reads “I hearby forgive all who have hurt me,
…whether deliberately or by accident, whether by word or by deed. May no one be
punished on my account. As I forgive and pardon fully those who have done me
wrong, may those whom I have harmed by word or by deed forgive and pardon me,
whether I acted deliberately or by accident. May the words of my mouth and the
meditations of my heart be acceptable to you my rock and my redeemer.”